


A Moment of Truth

by butmicoooool



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Bullying, Coming Out, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Self-Hatred, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 09:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butmicoooool/pseuds/butmicoooool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael had always struggled against his sexuality, had always ignored that part of himself. It only ever got him bullied and beaten. He’s older now, got himself a pretty sweet (pretty straight) set up. Then Gavin fucking Free saunters in and all the self-hatred and shame he’s got bottled up comes back to punch him in the face. (Inspired by the song Learn to Live With What You Are by Ben Folds) </p><p> </p><p>  <b>(Edit: 14(or 15? It's 2 am here)/1/14: Sorry for the delay, apparently I forgot exams are really tiring so I slept all day when i got home. But it's done now, enjoy! :) All your comments, feedback, bookmarks and kudos mean a lot to me. Thank you!</b></p><p> </p><p>(Originally written for the Mavin Fic Bang but I kinda fell off the face of the internet (because college) around when I was meant to post it, so.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing, No One, Nobody.

Michael Jones was 13 years old when he knew something was up. 

 

That something in question was his dick. 

He was new to jerking off, but finding his dick hard in his pants in public was the single most terrifying thing Michael had encountered in his young life. Mostly because it had struck him in the changing rooms of the school gym. His gym teacher had asked him to run in and get one of the guys that was in there, and when Michael walked in he was greeted with the entire senior football team in various states of undress. He was trying to tell the guy that Coach wanted him, but he stammered everything he tried to say. “You alright?” The guy took pity on him. The little kid was obviously terrified.  
Then someone called out _“That kid’s dick is fuckin’ hard!”_  
The guy looked down “What the fuck?”  
Michael felt all the blood drain from his face “I- I- I’m- not!” He tried to say, his hands shot to cover his crotch and the obvious bulge that was there. The guy was laughing over his stutters. “Jesus christ, alright. What you want, faggot?”  
“I, um, The coach-”  
“Coach wants me?”  
Michael nodded. His hands were heavy fists at his side, weighing him down. “Right tell him I’m on my way.”  
The locker room filled with laughter as he ran out, head down. 

 

_“Fuck. You see that mini-faggot?”  
“He probably would have begged you to fuck him, not that he’d be fuckin’ worth it.” _

 

When he comes into school the next morning someone has scribbled in marker all over one of his notebooks. He tries not to read it, but his eyes catch on a few four- and three-letter words. He’s tripped up twice on his way to class. His bag gets pulled off his back at recess. Michael never had delusions that he was popular, but, this is far more escalated than the occasional names and shoves he’s gotten before. A steady stream of whispers and snickering followed him around for the whole day. 

He makes it through the day. He doesn’t say hi to him mom when he gets home, he just goes straight to the calendar in the kitchen and counts the days till summer vacation. 

 

(#)

 

Michael is 14 when he’s beaten up for the first time. 

 

He’s sitting down in the courtyard outside the school, it’s a sunny day so he’s eating lunch with his friend Erin outside. He kept mostly to himself for the school year, having been deemed a ‘loser’ on the second day and pretty much ignored since then. All he had was Erin. They both had short, messy hair, freckles and were kind of pale. She was elected #1 loser at the end of last year. _“Us losers got to stick together!”_ she had beamed at him one day and sat down beside him. It just sort of became habit; eating lunch together, sitting beside each other. Michael considered her his best friend, but he felt like he was just a snotty kid that clung to her coattails. 

They’re just finishing their sandwiches when they hear it. 

 

“Hey! That’s the fag!” They look up, both their faces drained of colour, wide eyed. 

 

There’s a group of four boys from their year standing on the other side of the courtyard, one of which is the younger brother of that senior on the football team.  
Michael hears Erin swear under her breath. Next thing he knows she’s grabbing his hand and dragging him with her as she runs. He hears the footsteps of the kids behind them quicken when they dart around the corner of the school. 

Erin’s yelling at him to hurry up, the grip on his hand is painful. He runs. His heart is pounding out of his chest and his breath is wheezing, but he runs. He turns his head back for a second to see how far behind them their pursuers are, but he turns too quick and his glasses slide off his face. He tries to fix them, but they fall to the ground.  
He yells out but Erin ignores him, yells back at him to run faster, dammit. But he can’t see anything, he stops. “My glasses” he wheezes out. Erin looks at him, then at the boys almost on them.  
She looks him straight in the eye. He can just about make out her face.  
“Go on without me.” He says, he heard it on TV. “I’ll catch up.”  
She looks at him, then behind his shoulder.  
“I’m sorry.” She whispers.  
Michael has never seen anyone run so fast. 

He turns back and picks up his glasses, wipes the dirt from them. He puts them on just in time to see four kids, all bigger than him, slow and stop in front of him. 

Michael opens his mouth to say something - anything - but he doesn’t get the chance. He’s being punched right in the eye. He falls down to the ground with a sob. He curls up as they kick at his back, arms, legs. 

“Fucking poof can’t even fight like a real man,” 

They pause their beating to take turns spitting on him. 

Michael has just enough time to think _a ‘real man’ wouldn’t fight with four guys against one, asshole_ before they grab him, two guys at his arms, two at his legs. Michael tries to yell and kick but they just laugh over him. Together they heft him up and carry him to the dumpster. 

“Time to take out the trash” The kid to the left of him says. It’s such a stupidly cheesy thing to say. If Michael wasn’t so terrified and in pain right now he’d say something like _if you’re gonna be a fucking bully at least be original._ But as it is he only has enough time to roll his eyes before he’s tipped into the dumpster. Luckily the garbage seems to be mostly paper and he falls into the bags relatively unharmed. He hears the clang of the metal lid slamming down and he’s suddenly smothered in darkness. 

He waits, face down in the stinking, fucking trash. He waits until the echoes of laughter subside and everything goes quiet. Then he waits some more. The air is hot and heavy, his head feels the same, his arms and legs feel the same. He feels like they should have put him in a bag first. Then he could curl up and no one would notice him being picked up and thrown into the garbage truck, to be carried off, crushed and thrown in a landfill to rot. _Who would even care?_

Eventually, he sits up and pushes at the lid. Of course the fucking bastards put something heavy on it. Michael doesn’t panic though, just pushes harder until it slips off and cold, clean air rushes over him. 

 

He doesn’t know what time it is. There’s no other kids around so he guesses school isn’t over yet. He walks home anyway. He keeps his head down, looking at the ground as he drags his feet across it. That’s how he sees the tiny dark spots suddenly taking over the concrete sidewalk. Michael lifts his face up to the sky and blinks against the rain. He licks his lips, tasting dried blood and salt. 

When he gets to the house, no one is there. 

He sits under the porch, sheltered from the rain. He takes out his notebook and a black marker, inking in the front cover completely black. He takes out another note book and does the same, until he’s got a neat row of black cover notebooks. When the ink is dry he turns them over and colours in the back. 

His mom comes home when he’s just finishing up the last one.  
“What you doing that for?” She asks with a smile, there’s an edge to her voice.  
Michael shrugs.  
“Did the other kids write mean things on your stuff again?  
“Not yet,” he puts his books back in his bag. She just gives him a look and goes inside, leaving the door open. 

“And now they can’t” he whispers to himself. A voice in the back of his brain whispers back _now they’ll just find something else to do._

 

(#)

 

Michael Jones is 17 and at a party. 

He doesn’t know why he’s here. No wait, he knows exactly why. One of the popular girls had approached him in the hallway with a gang of slightly-less-popular-than-her girls, sighed and said “I’m, like, having this party and, like, everyone is invited.” She looked around at her friends. “and that apparently means _everyone_ ” She shrugged and handed him a laminated invitation. Michael wants to believe that they’re nice people, they just aren’t nice people when it came to _him._

That still doesn’t really explain why he actually showed up to the party. He spent most of his high school career in his room playing video games, making no friends, and showing up just enough to pass everything so he can get the fuck out of here. Michael knew the best way for him to get out of high school alive would be to shut up and keep his head down, so that’s what he did. 

His head is down right now, staring at the bottom of the paper cup that holds nothing but tap water. He’s holds it in both hands, close to his chest. He moves from room to room in the impossibly cramped house. It’s filled with the people he’s known for four years and never said a word to. _This was a dumb as shit idea, asshole._ He thinks to himself, just as someone calls out “Michael Jones!” A girl with dark hair suddenly appears, clutching his arm and dragging him through the room. People are cheering, wolf-whistling, clapping. Michael sees another boy being dragged towards him. A closet door is opened and they’re both slammed inside. 

Michael presses into the coats behind him, as far away from the other boy as possible. He didn’t get a good enough look at him before they were thrown into the darkness. 

“Hey, I’m Tim.”

Michael stays silent, closes his hands into fists, pressing his nails into his palms. Why did he come here? Why did he think this would be anything less of a disaster? He was so close to getting out and of course he had to go and fuck up and get himself locked in a fucking closet with the only other kid in school bullied for being gay. The difference is this kid is actually out and stands up to the dicks that beat him up. Michael denies it with every breath. And he can usually convince himself too, until he tries to jack off. 

Michael realizes the guy is talking, in quick but quiet voice “... got you into this. I’m really sorry, I don’t know why I showed up. I just wanted to see what it was like.”

“Shut up.” 

Michael has his eyes closed so tight he’s pretty sure he’s gonna pop his eyes to the back of his skull, and they’ll roll around there in the space his brain would be; if he had a fucking brain.

“I’m-”

“Shut the fuck up” he bites out

Tim shuts the fuck up. 

Unfortunately, in the silence of the closet they can now hear the abuse being thrown at them from the people outside. 

It’s mostly drunken, garbled sentences where every second word is “fag” or “faggot”. Not very encouraging conversation. Michael hopes they get bored soon, or that they tire themselves out and have to go take a nap or something. 

“SEVEN MINUTES IS UP!” The crowd goes wild as the door is flung open. 

“Did you have a nice fuck, fags?”  
“You’re gonna have to burn the coats now, Tiffany!”  
“Just burn the fucking freaks while you’re at it,” 

Michael pushes past them, pushes past the laughter and the insults, until he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around and punches the guy right in the face. He feels a crunch, but can’t tell if it’s his hand or the nose he just hit. The guy yelps and Michael looks at him. It’s Tim.  
Michael feels like he’s gonna throw up. 

He runs. 

He doesn’t go home. He heads to the park near his house. His breath is leaving his lungs too fast and he can’t get seem to get any air around the sharp feeling in his throat. 

“Michael! Wait!” Tim calls from behind him.  
“What the _fuck_ do you want?” Michael turns on him sharp and ready to cut.  
“I just-” His step falters. “Are you ok?”  
“You’re the one with the fucking tissue in your nose.”  
Tim’s hand comes up to his face, he looks surprised, like he forgot it was there. “Oh. Yeah.”  
“What do you want?”  
“I-” he chews on his nails. “Why can’t we be friends?”  
Michael says nothing, Tim continues “Whenever I see you in the hallways, or in class, I try to say hello and be cool but you’re always a jerk, ignoring me or just telling me to fuck off. I don’t know why, we’re both g-”  
“We’re both _nothin’._ ” Michael is suddenly too close, the neck of Tim’s shirt in his grip and his fist hanging heavy at his hip.  
“Don’t fucking talk to me, faggot.”  
Tim’s eyes go deer-in-the-headlights wide. “I thought-”  
“I’m not a fuckin’ homo, so you can fuck off and go suck some other guy’s dick,” Michael lets go and steps back. The last he sees of Tim is a thin, pale face, terrified and bloodied. And it was all his fault.

Michael walks away, his feet dragging in a way he’s gotten too used to. He digs his nails into his palms again, but they’re too blunt to scratch or cut.

 

(#)

 

He’s 20 when he makes his first Youtube video. 

He gets out of high school and gets a job. The guys he works with are nice in that they don’t beat him up or anything. They’re not exactly friends but a bunch of them meet up sometimes at the weekends. They usually go to a bar, but this time they go to somebody’s house. Doesn’t matter, there’s still beer. And an XBox. When Michael realizes they’re laughing at him playing he gets real still and quiet.  
“No, no, keep playing! You’re fuckin’ hilarious!” They encourage him, cheer him on. One guy is filming. Michael just keeps doing his thing, and just about manages to not throw the controller on the ground. 

Guys are clapping him on the shoulder and handing him drinks. He’s suddenly in this crowd of people that think he’s funny and not, y’know, the scum of the Earth. It’s a not bad feeling and he doesn’t know what to do with it. 

So he makes more videos. It’s just him being a jerk and yelling at video games, but people find it _funny._ People find _him_ funny, in the good kind of way. Not the way he’s used to. It fills him with a sense of something he didn’t feel before. He feels like maybe he’s not such a piece of shit. He thinks _maybe I’m onto something here._


	2. A Moment of Truth

There’s a million stupid pictures of Gavin online, but only one of them just so happens to be a picture of him snogging the face off a guy who is apparently his ex-boyfriend. 

Everybody in the office is cool about it, once a red-faced Gavin explains in the podcast that, yeah, he’s bisexual, he just hasn’t been with that many guys so he doesn’t talk about it a lot. Or ever. They understand that he likes to keep that part of himself private. So everyone just shrugs and carries on with their jobs.

Well, almost everyone. 

Michael’s about to go home, he just had to finish this _one thing._ But he’s got this itch at the back of his brain, so he just had to open the picture up. _This is the last time_ he promises himself. He clicks on the tab he’s had open all day, lingering behind his editing window.  
It’s blurry, but you can tell it’s Gavin. His nose is taking up like 90% of the picture. He’s clinging onto the other guy, hands tangled in his shirt. It’s kinda hot. _If you’re into that sort of thing._ He snorts a laugh at himself. 

He thinks back to the way Gavin looked when he’d told him, in the office with Lindsay and Geoff, and Gavin just saying “Well, no, I’m not _gay._ Not full homo.”  
“Just half-homo” Geoff supplies helpfully. Lindsay looks unconcerned, she smiles at Gavin and leaves to get back to work.

Michael is trying really hard not to freak out. “You knew?” he asks Geoff. His voice only cracks a little bit.  
“I fuckin’ live with the guy. Of course I knew.”  
Gavin shrugs. “I didn’t really want it getting out. It’s a... personal thing.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“You didn’t need to know!” it wasn’t quite a shout, but it’s getting there. Geoff starts to back up towards the door.  
“But I’m your friend!”  
“Yeah, you’re my straight friend.” The office is suddenly a lot smaller than it was. Geoff has already left.  
“Fucking... So? Just because I’m with Lindsay doesn’t mean...” Michael stops.  
“Doesn’t mean what?”  
“Doesn’t mean- fuck. Gavin, look. You’re my best friend.” He can’t remember what else he wanted to say. Gavin just stands there, waiting for him to go on. Michael looks away. “It’s- I- You liking guys is weird and I don’t-” He can tell Gavin freezes “I don’t understand it.” A dark feeling settles in the bottom of his stomach. “But I should have known. You should have told me.”  
Gavin sighs. “You didn’t need to know, Michael. It’s nothing to do with you.”  
“Yeah, ok. Whatever.”  
He just wants to drop it. Gavin gives him a look. Michael turns back to his editing. Gavin walks out. 

The echo of the door slamming hangs in the air. 

The sound still sits in Michael’s head five hours later. _This fucking picture._ He clicks it closed with a little more force than necessary. _This shit is behind you._ He stars at the blank screen. _You love Lindsay. Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay._

He opens the picture again. _I’m a sack of shit._

This time he laughs out a sob. 

“What’s so funny?” Gavin asks from the door. He stuffs the last bit of the sandwich he was eating into his mouth as he walks behind Michael and looks at his screen.

He swallows loudly as Michael rushes to close the tab but his brain forgets to send the message to his arm and he’s too late.  
“What are you doing?” Gavin pushes Michael and his chair out of the way.  
“I... um-”  
“You were bloody looking at that flippin’ picture!” Gavin’s face is red. His eyes narrowed and glaring at Michael..  
“I was just-”  
“Just what?” Gavin stands back.  
“Its weird, ok!” Michael pushes himself out of his chair to stand right in front of Gavin. “I didn’t think you were... like that. I’m not- used to it.”  
Gavin crosses his arms. “Do you have a problem with it?” He tries not to let his voice waver at all and almost succeeds. 

Michael just stares at him, his mouth a thin line on his face. The dark feeling in his stomach grows.  
“I can’t believe you.” Gavin storms out of the office for the second time that day. Michael’s stomach is a black pit of unpleasantness and he just wants to drown in it. He falls back into his chair, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. It takes a couple minutes for the knot at the back of his throat to clear. When it does, he calls Lindsay. 

 

(#)

 

“What’s wrong?” She’s asking before Michael is even in the door. He heads for the couch but doesn’t sit down. “There’s something I gotta tell you.” 

“What is it?” Lindsay stands across from him on the other side of her coffee table. 

He rubs at his face a little, his hands are cool on his too-hot face. He keeps them there, hiding behind them. “I can’t say it.” He says into the dark space he’s made for himself.  
He hears lindsay move closer, she places her hand lightly on his arm.  
“What’s wrong.” She asks quietly.  
“I’m-” He chokes on it.  
“Do you- are you- are we breaking up?” It’s a murmur. Michael moves his head minutely down, then back up. Lindsay sighs. “It’s ok if we have to break up, you’ve been... not yourself the past week or so. I’ve been worried about you, you know.”  
“I know,” When takes his hands away from his face, his palms are wet. “I have something- I need to work out. On my own. I think.”  
“Or with Gavin.” Lindsay giggles lightly, it’s a joke. _It’s a joke._ But Michael’s stomach drops to the floor. Lindsay stops laughing. “Oh. Is it Gavin related?” She’s got that concerned look and tone going on.  
“No it’s not.” Michael whispers _But you’re a little too close to the mark, there._  
She’s giving him a _look_ though. “What is it you need to work out, Michael?”  
“I- don’t make me say it.” he’s begging, but at the same time his mind is screaming at him to tell her. This secret is too big and it’s spilling from every crack in his battered armour.  
“I’m-” he stops.  
“I’m-” She waits.  
His hands come back up to hide his face and in that cool darkness he breathes it out. “I’m _gay._ ” 

He doesn’t know what he expected; a slap or a shout maybe. All he gets is a quiet “Oh” and familiar arms wrapping around him and drawing him in.  
“I’m sorry” He’s getting very close to sobbing. He feels like a weight has been lifted, only to be replaced with a heavier, more unmoveable one.  
“It’s ok.” She says against his ear, his forehead pressed into her shoulder.  
“I’m sorry I’m such a piece of shit.” He’s gonna get her shirt all gross with tears “How could I do this to you?”  
She presses her lips to his temple. Her voice is soft, familiar, and heartbreaking. “How could you do this to yourself?”

She holds him for a minute, then gently eases them apart. “You don’t have to be sorry for being gay, Michael.”  
“But I am sorry, ” He mumbles to the floor. “I’ve just been- fuck, I’ve been struggling with this shit my whole life and I figured it wasn’t fair to drag you through this shit with me.”  
“I _am_ with you though, Michael. We- You’re still my best friend. I accept you for who you are, you just gotta learn to live with it.” A beat of silence passes slowly between them “I’m glad you told me,” she says softly “Thanks, for trusting me with this,”  
Michael wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I’m gonna, I wanna be on my own for a bit.”  
“Do you... shouldn’t we..” Lindsay stops and starts, trying to organize strands of thought into coherent sentences. “Do you wanna talk?”  
“There’s not much to say.” Michael wants to feel angry, he wants to want to yell. But he just feels really small. “We’ll be.. ok though?” and quiet.  
Lindsay nods, smiling sadly. “Of course.”  
“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”  
“I’m not mad. It’ll be ok.”

A smile is breaking through the sad expression that’s been taking over his face. He’s walking over to the door when Lindsay stops him with a question “Does Gavin know?”  
“No one else knows”  
“Maybe you should talk to him..”  
“Why?” Michael snaps around at her, the wished-for anger from earlier suddenly granted. “Oh because I’m gay I’m obviously in love and want to fuck every guy I see.”  
Lindsay crosses her arms and looks unimpressed. “No need to be so defensive, I meant because he’s you’re fucking _friend_ , you moron. And also he’s bi, so you’d have someone to talk to boy on boy stuff with. So you’re not alone, asshole.” She smirks at his blush and brushes off another mumbled apology.  
“It’s alright.” She hugs him one more time for good measure “Now go and talk to Gavin about boy feelings. I’m busy, I got shit to do!”  
They’re both laughing a little, just enough, so that the tension and anger between them is eased for the moment.

When the door shuts finally behind him, Lindsay takes out her phone. She’s not crying, her eyes are just stinging a little. It’s nothing.  
“Heyoo” Barbara answers.  
“Hey Barb, it um, it happened.”  
"Oh. Lindsay, I'm so sorry. Was it bad?"  
"It was... ok. I'm happy about it. Or I will be, anyway."  
"Do you need me to come over?"  
"Um, yeah."  
"And bring the supplies?"  
Lindsay laughs, but her cheeks are wet. "Yeah. I'll need ‘em." She can hear Barbara rushing around, grabbing stuff on the other end of the line.  
"Ok, don't hate me but I've had everything ready to go for like a week now. Ice cream, shitty movies, wine, pjs, face masks. The good shit, too."  
"You sound way too happy about this."  
"We're gonna have a slumber party!" Lindsay can hear her practically vibrating with excitement. It makes her smile.  
"On my way now! You want me to stay on the phone or can I hang up?"  
"I'll be fine. See you soon."  
Barbara yells "slumber party!" one more time before hanging up. 

Lindsay sits down on the couch, brings her knees up to her chest, lays her head there.  
She'll be fine, even though she feels like shit right now. She knows she’ll be fine, it’s not herself she’s really worried about. 

 

(#)

 

Michael is way late for work, but he can’t bring himself to leave his apartment. Can’t bring himself to face the results of what he said last night. So he paces the hall, doing all the deep breathing shit you’re meant to do when you feel like the panic is gonna jump out your throat and slit it. Eventually he gets into the car and locks himself in. He tries to calm down while he calls Geoff’s number, but he knows how heavy his breathing is. His heart feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of his chest. “Hey buddy, what's up?” Geoff is way too bubbly on the other end. Michael can faintly hear the music of whatever game Geoff is playing, his entire focus trained on it, the music sounds familiar but he can’t place it. His brain wants to beat its way out of his skull. “Michael?” The music cuts off. Replaced with voices, familiar voices. “Michael? Where are-”  


 “I need some time off. Something came up.” A pause, someone says something to Geoff. Michael realises then that it’s Lindsay. It’s Lindsay and Gavin. Talking to Geoff. Talking to Geoff about _him._ He clenches his fists, tries and fails to clear his throat.  
“Yeah, sure, Michael. Take as much time as you need. But not too much!” Geoff forces a little laugh. Michael nods _He can’t fucking see you, dipshit._ “Thanks. I’ll call... whenever. Bye.” He hangs up. It takes everything in him not to throw the phone out the window and drive over it. Instead he takes a deep breath, turns it off and sets it carefully in the glove box. He wipes his eyes and drives the fuck away.

He crushes the heel of his hand into his eye. It stings, in sharp contrast to the dull ache everywhere else. He stops eventually, when the sun has long since dropped out of sight and a few stars fight to be seen through the light pollution. Michael pulls into the carpark of a bar. He sits up straight, avoids catching his reflection in the mirror, and gets out. He makes his way to the bar with his head down. It’s crowded enough that no one looks at him as he walks in, dodging touch and eye contact. Michael sits down at the bar a little ways from a bunch of what he assumes are college kids. Looking around, the whole place is pretty much filled with twenty-somethings dressed nice (but not too nice) and smart (but not too smart). A college bar. Michael orders his drink and hopes that the feeling of being watched is just in his head. 

He takes long pulls of his drink and ignores the bubble of careful space thats been left around him. His beer isn’t doing much, unfortunately, to calm his shaking hands or get rid of that little voice at the back of his head. The buzz of the place seems distant and still too close. The bartender gives him a pitying look and Michael counts it as a victory that he doesn’t immediately jump over the counter and punch that son of a bitch right in his condescending fucking face. 

Four drinks in ( _real_ drinks this time, not beer) and Michael is thinking a whole lotta nothin’. The glass is cool against his fingertips, ice clattering around as he fidgets with it. He still feels sober though. _I thought drinking your pain would be more fun._ His arms are heavy, his eyes are tired. _I just feel shittier than when I started._ He doesn’t have enough money for another drink, and he doesn’t want to ask someone for directions to the atm. The bar is filling up, his bubble of dont-touch-me space is shrinking. He drinks the melted ice and goes back to his car. 

 

The radio is static, the only station that wants to work is the shitty college station of the shitty college in this shitty college town. Shit. He leaves it on anyway, tries to focus on it, leaning his face against the window. _All you need is the thing you’ve forgotten_ It’s some piano indie ballad crap, with a stupid string section in the chorus, but it’s the lyrics that punch him right in the face. _And that’s to learn to live with what you are_ It’s an echo something Lindsay said to him yesterday. And suddenly he’s lurching forward, ignoring the swell of nausea, turning the radio up as high as it’ll go. The song is upbeat, calm, reassuring. Michael gives up all pretense of strength and begins to cry. His eyes are wet but his mouth is dry and each sob that tears through him cuts him open from the inside out. 

He punches the dashboard. “Fuck that _hurt._ ” His voice doesn’t feel like his own. It helps. “fuck fuck fuck” Not-Michael fires of a litany of profanity in between coughed-up sobs. Next thing he knows, the song switches to something sweet and poppy and he’s ripping open the car door and throwing up. Michael leans out, gripping the seat and the steering wheel, and just retches and heaves until he’s got nothing left. Not that he had much to begin with. 

“You fucking piece of shit. Just get the fuck over yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you, you fucking absolute piece of trash. You are fine, you’re fucking fine” It takes him a second to realise he’s still talking to himself. It takes him another second to realise what he’s actually saying.  
“You’re fine. There’s nothing wrong with you.” He pauses, sucks in a breath and winces at the taste in his mouth. “I’m fine. I-“ He stops and looks up through the window. He slump back to lean against the passenger door. He closes his eyes and exhales “There’s nothing wrong with me.” He turns off the radio and lets the distant sounds of the bar wash over him. Tears are still dripping off his nose, but he smiles. Weak and hopeful. “I’m ok.”

 

(#)

 

He wakes up in his car the next morning. He smells like vomit, though he can’t see any. His mouth feels like he’s tried to eat a desert’s worth of sand. Sunlight streams through the windows and punches him right behind the eyes. He lays across the back seat and waits to feel more human. 

There’s a tap at his window. Michael squints up at the figure blocking the light.  
“Hey sweetie, you alright?” She sounds pissed. Michael scrambles up and opens the window. The girl that woke him up is standing with her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed right at Michael.. “‘M fine” he slurs out. His eyes, head, limbs, basically his entire body aches. The girl sighs and fumbles around for something in the pocket of the black half-apron-thing she’s wearing. Michael looks at her properly while she takes out a hair tie and pulls back her messy black hair. She’s wearing a shirt that proclaims the name of the bar, sneakers, and has a bag thrown down at her feet. He figures she’s here to kick him out of the car park before the bar opens. Michael figures she’ll start yelling at him or something, but she just looks at him with a sad look in her eyes.  
“Do you go to college here?”  
“Ugh, no.” The more he looks up at her the more he feels like he’s seen her before. It’s that look of pity. He feels like he’s been on the receiving end of that look before.  
“I feel like I’ve seen you before” She says, Michael’s head snaps up. “What’s your name?”  
“Um, Michael?”  
“And you’re not a regular here?”  
“No.” 

She bites the inside of her cheek as she scrutinizes his face.  
“What’s your name?” He says, mostly just to break the silence.  
“Erin.” She says flatly, she doesn’t expect him to be the one that figures it out, but he is.  
“I used to know an Erin in middle school.” He says, and he blinks. Looks at her again.  
“I used to know a Michael in middle school.”  
He goes quiet. He’s trying not to fucking cry again.  
“You’re Michael Jones.” She whispers. When she speaks again she’s as close to crying as Michael is. “I’m so sorry. I should have made you keep running.”  
“No, it. It wasn’t your fault.”  
She’s biting her lip and blinking back tears.  
“I’m really sorry” she repeats.  
“Don’t- I- here.” He opens the door and gets out of the car. He’s taller than her. She’s so different to the fourteen year old version of her that he knew. _no shit. dumbass_  
“I’m sorry I got you beaten up.” Tears are running down her face.  
“You didn’t get me beaten up.” He reaches his arm out, trying to comfort her, he doesn’t know what to do.  
She shakes her head. “I did. If you didn’t hang out with me, they wouldn’t have chased after you.”  
“What? No, those kids were after me ‘cause... they were after me because I’m gay.” He scrapes it out of his throat. It hurts, but a good kind of hurt.  
“What?” she says “They were after _me_ because _I’m_ gay.”  
“Wait, what?”  
“What? Didn’t you hear them yelling and pointing at me?”  
“No, they were yelling and pointing at _me_.”

They stand there in silence, an arms length apart, re-thinking their entire adolescence.

“You’re gay?” Michael asks.  
“Yeah. You too?” 

 

They end up sitting together on the ground, backs against the car door.

“...and I just, kissed her on the cheek. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I think some other kids were talking about how you were supposed to tell your crush you liked them, so I did. Unfortunately for me, I had a crush on the daughter of the biggest religious nut in the fucking universe. I had to move schools in the end.”  
“That’s why I never saw you in high school.”  
“Yeah.”  
They fall silent. Michael can tell Erin is waiting for him to tell his story. He doesn’t really have one. “I guess I’ve always _known_ , sort of in a way.” He starts. “I had this girlfriend for a while though,, and she is - was- my best friend and I-” Erin has her arm around him. “There’s this... guy. I work with.” Erin smiles. “And he, he came out as liking guys, bisexual, or whatever. So I-” he stops.  
“Did you tell him you like him?” Her eyes go wide.  
“No, no. I think he thinks I’m a homophobe.” He bites back a laugh. “And I broke up with my girlfriend, and told her why and I think she told him and my boss and I don’t want to go back there, I don’t want to face... all that shit,” 

She lets the conversation sit there for a while. The background noise of cars and people walking take over. Erin leans her head back and closes her eyes. Michael bows his head and stares at his fidgeting hands. 

“I run this workshop thing.” The suddenness of Erin’s statement makes Michael jump a little. “It’s for LGBTQ Youth and stuff. But you should come along. It’s just a safe place kind of thing. You don’t need to do anything. Just come along.”  
“I’m- thanks.”  
“Here’s my number, and the address and stuff.” She takes a card from her back pocket and presses it firmly into Michael’s palm.  
“I don’t know-”  
“Just come along once. We meet between six and nine on Thursdays. It doesn’t have to be this Thursday, or next Thursday. Just give me a text before so I know to expect you.” 

She gets up and dusts off her jeans. “Do you have someone who can come and pick you up?”  
He nods. “I gotta get to work. If you get stuck though, hang around and I’ll help you after my shift, ok?”  
He nods again.  
“Bye, Michael. Hope I see you again.”  
“Bye.” 

The town around him gets busier as he looks at the card in his hand. He gets back into the car and gets his phone from the glovebox, feels the familiar weight of it in his hands. He spends twenty minutes dialing and deleting the number before he actually hits call.

 

(#)

 

“Gavin?”  
“Yeah?”  
Michael swallows around everything he wants to say. He kicks at the dirt with his feet. “I’m out of money and gas, can you pick me up?”  
“Where are you?”  
“Ugh about three hours away” he gives his location and directions. He tried not to wince when he says them. He knows he was really fucking dumb. He’ll apologize later.  
Gavin scribbles it down on his arm. “Stay there we’ll getcha. Don’t you worry. You want me to stay on the phone?”  
Michael pauses again. He can hear the slap of Gavin’s shoes as he runs somewhere, probably trying to find someone who can actually drive. Michael mentally kicks himself for not thinking of that, but there was no one else he felt like he could calling.  
“Michael?”  
“Huh? Ugh, no I’m ok. I’ll hang up now.”  
“Alright. I’ll call you when we’re nearly there.”  
“Thanks, Gavin.”  
“Anytime, Michael.” It should sound playful and dismissive, but it comes out too solemn, a promise. “Anytime.”

 

(#)

 

The sun is hanging proudly in the sky by the time a car pulls into the space beside Michael, who’s still sitting on the ground, squinting up and trying to shield his eyes from the sun. Next thing he knows he’s sitting in the passenger seat of Lindsay’s car. Lindsay and Gavin had brought Geoff and a thing of gas with them, to take care of Michael’s car while Lindsay drives them home.  
Gavin’s sprawled out in the back, limbs taking up the entire back-seat and Michael buckled and curled up in the front. Geoff hadn’t said much when they pulled up in the parking lot. Just something along the lines of “don’t worry, I got this” then Michael was gently, but forcefully, maneuvered into the front seat, leaving Geoff and the bar and the college town behind. Now Michael’s looking out the window at the orange expanse of desert whizzing by them. He looks out and thinks about all the shit he’s been through. He thinks about every slur and punch that was aimed at him. He thinks about where he is now. He turns to look at Lindsay and she smiles at him. He looks at Gavin in the back and wonders again how he’s so calm and cool about everything. He’s been through stuff too, Michael knows, but it’s like it’s nothing to him. How could it be nothing to him, when it was everything to Michael?  
He closes his eyes. “Lindsay?” He says, his throat is dry.  
“Yeah?” She sounds worried, but she keeps her eyes on the road.  
“Can we ugh, stop for a minute. I need some air” He can feel his eyes stinging. He keeps them closed.  
“Yeah sure.” She slows and pulls the car up to the side of the road. Michael’s opening the door before the car is fully stopped. Gavin starts to ask if he’s ok, but Michael yells out “I’m fine! Be right back!” as he walks quickly away from the car, out into the stretch of dirt. He walks faster, jogs for a bit, then slows down. He stops when the car is just a blur in the distance with two blurs standing beside it. 

_I just need a minute._ he thinks to himself. He cranes his neck back to look up at the sun until his eyes burn, and it gives him a reason to cry. He lets his stupid tears fall down his face and onto the dirt.

“Why am I so fucked up?” His voices comes out cracked and broken, and it freaks him out a little in the big silent space of the desert. “It’s not my fault I’m gay.” 

 

He stills. 

 

“It’s not my fault I’m gay.” He’s laughing now, even though he can still feel himself crying. He’s bent over double, laughing so much he can’t breathe. “I’m gay.” he says around his giggles. “And it’s not my fault.” He catches his breath, straightens, and looks back up at the sky. “I refuse to let you fuck me up” he yells to everyone and no-one. 

“I’m gonna be gay, and I’m gonna be fucking proud of it and nobody is gonna fucking let me believe any different.” The sky stares blankly back at him. He doesn’t expect a reply, he doesn’t need one. 

Michael stands there for a bit. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, he thinks it might be peace, a moment of truth. He feels like the desert understands him. Which he knows is totally dumb, but he’s done questioning the way he feels and he’s just choosing to accept it. Accept himself. 

He knows what he wants. 

Gavin runs up to meet him when he starts to walk back. “You ok?” he calls when he’s a little ways away.  
“Gavin fucking Free.” Michael is grinning. Arms out, fingers splayed, as if he’s going to hug him.  
“Thats me” Gavin smiles back, a little hesitant.  
“I’m ok, Gavin. I am.”  
“Are you sure? Were you crying?”  
Michael drops his arms and shrugs. “The fucking sun is bright, man.”  
“Yeah, hah.” Gavin breathes out a nervous laugh.  
“But um, I’m glad you came out here alone.” Michael gets serious “I wanted to talk to you.”  
“About what?”  
“I’m gay.”  
Gavin nods. “I, um. I know?”  
“I like dick.” Michael beams proudly.  
“That’s one way to say it.”  
“I’m want-” he pauses, clenching and unclenching the fists at his sides. “I’m gonna say something, and I want you to just nod. Don’t say anything, just nod.”  
Gavin nods  
“Ok yeah.” he takes a breath, looks down at the ground. “I’ve known I was gay since I was, like, in middle school or whatever. I’ve always ignored it though.” He looks up at Gavin, who nods. “I’ve been, ugh, beaten up and ugh, thrown in dumpsters and shit and I spent pretty much the entire time figuring I deserved it because I’m a fucking fag.” He smiles, Gavin nods. “I had it all neatly bottled up and shoved away, but when you came out I-” he breathes deep. “I hated myself. Suddenly I couldn’t ignore it anymore and whenever I saw you all I could think was ‘oh wow, maybe if I wasn’t such a piece of shit he’d like me!’ because I’ve pretty much been in love with your dumb face since we met.” Gavin nods. “ It just took me awhile to realise because i was, y’know, so busy hating myself.” 

They stand there. 

“Ok I’d done you can talk now. Or not. It would probably be better if you didn’t say anything.”  
“You were beaten up for being gay?” Gavin says.  
“Yeah.” Michael nods, closing his eyes.  
“You... you’re ok now though?”  
“Yeah, ugh, mostly. I guess.” His eyes are still closed, but he can feel Gavin moving closer to him.  
“You’re in love with me?” It’s a quiet murmur, too close for comfort.  
“I didn’t mean- I didn’t. I don’t know. I kinda sorta-” Michael babbles, scrunches his eyes because he knows Gavin is staring him down. “I mean, I know you dont- just because you’re gay doesn’t mean- I mean-”  
“Michael.”  
“Gavin?” He cracks one eye open. Gavin’s face is inches away from his own.  
“Can I kiss you?” Gavin’s got this little smile on him that makes Michael’s stomach twist. All he can do is nod. He doesn’t trust himself to speak without his voice breaking.  
Gavin brings his hands up slowly to gently cup Michael’s face. He leans in. 

“I’m of love with your dumb face, too” Gavin’s eyes shut, and he’s closing whatever distance was left between them. Michael can’t even close his eyes because _holy fuck how is this happening._ So he’s just looking at Gavin’s eyebrows while their lips are pressed together in the best worst kiss Michael’s ever had.

But then Gavin’s hands are gone, he’s backing off, mumbling an apology. Michael’s still just staring at him. “What?”  
“I thought you wanted-“  
“I do!”  
“But you-“ Gavin looks so confused. Michael rubs at his face, his thoughts flicking from _stop messing this up_ to _holy fuck Gavin kissed me._  
“I’m sorry, I just- I’m having a freaking epiphany in the desert and suddenly you’re kissing me, my brain is still trying to catch up.  
“Oh ok,” Gavin huffs out a laugh. “Try again?”  
“Let’s try again.” This time it’s Michael who brings his hands up to pull Gavin’s face to his. Both of their eyes flutter shut and they’re kissing for real this time. He knows Gavin is being careful, like he doesn’t want to break him, and Michael’s being careful because this is all so new and, if he’s being honest, fucking terrifying. But the gentle press of Gavin’s lips against his own is sending all kinds of good vibes to the lower parts of his body, and neither of them have even opened their mouths yet. Michael decides to change this, teasing against Gavin’s mouth with his tongue. Gavin’s mouth opens as he breathes out Michael’s name. Then hands are coming up to tangle in Michael’s hair, their bodies are pressed together, and the kiss steps up from sweet and cautious to sloppy and desperate. 

Michael’s lost in it, lost in the press, the touch and feel of Gavin. His hands, his mouth, his hips where they slide against his own. He feels a wetness on his face. It makes his break the kiss, pull back a bit so he can breathe (so he can think). “Am I crying?” he asks, out of breath and still clutching at Gavin’s face. Gavin nods “it’s ok, I’ve got some tears too.”  
“Let’s agree not to tell anyone about this”  
“Yeah, lets.”  
They’re laughing and grinning at each other like two idiots when they hear it.  
“HELLO?” A voice calls from the distance “I’M REALLY HAPPY FOR YOU TWO, BUT CAN WE GET GOING?” Lindsay yells as she power walks over to meet them.  
“Seriously, you two dorks are really adorable, and I hate to break up the love fest-” She’s grinning at them, they’re blushing and refuse to look at her “-but I told Geoff I’d be back. I can drop you off at Michael’s house though, if you want?” She says the last part more quietly. Like you’d talk to an injured animal you were trying to rescue.  
“Thanks, Lindsay.” He’s still got tears on his face. She doesn’t bring it up.  
“Anytime, Michael.” 

 

(xxx)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My coming out went a lot like Michael's, except when I told my boyfriend I was a lesbian his reaction was pretty much the exact opposite of Lindsay's.


	3. Being Gay Doesn't Come With a Handbook

Lindsay drops them off at Michael’s apartment block, then speeds off across the road to work. They climb the stairs in silence, walking close enough to brush against each other. Michael moves slowly. Gavin bounces on the balls of his feet.

Michael yawns as his throws his keys on the counter.  
“You should sleep.” Gavin is way too close to his face, so Michael leans back. He almost falls but Gavin grabs him by the arms.  
“I wanna... talk though.” Michael says, almost losing the word when Gavin lets him go, trailing his fingertips over Michael’s arms.  
“We can talk when you wake up.” Gavin turns him round and marches him to the bedroom. “Into bed.” Gavin orders. Michael ignores him, turns back to face Gavin and wraps his arms around him.  
“Are you, uh... gonna go?” He mumbles his question against Gavin’s neck.  
He can’t see but he just _knows_ Gavin is rolling his eyes.  
“That’s the worst way of asking me to stay ever.” Michael pouts at him. “Of course I’ll stay. You bloody idiot, I’m not gonna leave you now.”

So Gavin ends up with a snoring Michael weighing down his chest.He threads his fingers softly through Michael’s hair. Even though there’s a solid pool of drool forming on his shirt, Gavin doesn’t complain.

 

(#)

 

Gavin pokes Michael awake a couple hours later. “Michael, _Michael_ ,” His whispers get increasingly louder, until he’s all but shouting in Michael’s ear. “Wake up, Michael! I’m hungry!”  
Gavin dodges the fists that swing for him. He manages to get Michael dressed and in the car with minimal damage to his face, limbs and torso.

Geoff had left a scribbled note on the dashboard, it was more of a letter really, he glances at it, then folds in up real small. “Where to?” Michael yawns and puts the note in his pocket.  
“Pancakes!” Gavin shouts from the passenger seat.  
“Dude, it’s like five o’clock we have to get dinner.”  
Gavin looks him straight in the eye. “We don’t have to do anything we don’t want, Michael. If they tell us we can’t have pancakes, you can be damn sure we’re gonna have pancakes anyway. And we’re gonna bloody enjoy them.”  
“Was that meant to be a metaphor?” Michael _doesn’t_ laugh. He doesn’t.  
“Yeah,” Gavin pouts. (Ok, Michael admits he does laugh a little) “I worked really hard on that and you’re just laughing at me,”  
“Gavin,”  
“What?” He’s got his arms crossed and he’s slouched so far down in the seat that his chin rests on his chest. It takes all of Michael’s willpower not to mock Gavin’s accent.  
“You’re really fuckin’ adorable.” He starts the car and reverses out of the space, but not before taking a good five minutes to kiss Gavin.

__

(#)

__

Michael can’t sleep. He texted Geoff and said he’d be in tomorrow, and he will be, but he finds it hard to ignore the feeling twisting his guts inside out. He’s checking the time for the fifth time in as many minutes when he remembers Geoff’s note. He gets out of bed and fishes through the sea of clothes on the floor to find the jeans he was wearing that day. The note is a little crumpled, Michael unfolds it, heart pounding in his chest as he reads.

_Michael,  
_

 

_Lindsay told me what happened. Don’t blame her for it though, I sort of cornered her and made her spill the beans. I think I’ve known pretty much since I met you that you were dealing with stuff. When you called me, I knew that whatever you were dealing with inside had spilled out, Lindsay and Gavin were there and so I asked them. I may or may not have pulled the boss card on them. I know it was a dick move but I’m glad I did it, I hope you can forgive me for it. I care about you, Michael. We all care about you.  
No one here cares that you’re gay. What we do care about is that you’re hurting. I know what it’s like to feel lost and alone, and I also know that there’s nothing I can do to really understand where you’re coming from and what you’re going through. I just want you to know that you don’t have to go through this alone. You are surrounded by people that care about you, and I don’t know what your family is like. But I like to think we’re a kind of family too, right? We’re definitely friends at least.  
We’re here for you, we got your back. I’ve told everyone you’re not feeling well, and need a few days. I did have to tell Burnie the full story, but he feels the same way as me. He’s more fond of speeches than letters so expect some kind of heartwarming private toast when you come back to work, or before if you take more time off, he wanted to come with me when we collected you but I told him his presence would overwhelm you with its sheer awesomeness (he looked mystified and flattered and then thankfully he went away). But I know he’s just buzzing with excitement and is writing and rewriting his own inspirational words.  
I’m proud of you Michael, for who you are. Even if you’re not proud of yourself. You are so much stronger than you think you are. _

 

_\- Geoff._

 

 

Michael reads the letter over a couple times. He smooths the paper out as he reads, his fingertips grazing the hastily-written words. He puts the paper between the pages of a book in his room, then sets it down gently on his bedside table. The white paper sticks out a little, a soft reminder that there’s something there, just incase Michael forgets.

 

(#)

_It’s way too early to be standing in front of this many people._ Michael looks out at the faces - there’s only about 10 people there, not including himself and Geoff and Burnie, who stand at either shoulder just a little behind Michael. _They’re like my bodyguards_ Michael snorts. All the Achievement Hunter guys are there, Caleb included, as well as Gus, Joel, Miles, and Kara. Barbara and Lindsay are there too, at the back of the small crowd. They look a little confused as to why Burnie called them all in for “a quick word.” Except for Lindsay, Gavin and Barbara who are trying their best to look supportive. Michael bites the inside of his cheek. That’s all he’s got.  
“It’s just something Michael wants to tell you all, before you learn it from a less favorable source,” Burnie comes to the rescue his rests his hand on Michael’s shoulder.  
“I’m- This is really stupid. I’m gay. There, woo.” He ignores how everyone in the room simultaneously glances back at Lindsay.  
“I just wanted to tell you guys, mostly because Geoff and Burnie made me but also because,” Burnie squeezes his shoulder. “Because you guys are my friends, you know. Whatever.”  
“Ok everybody back to work” Burnie barks, it gives them something to laugh at. The crowd filters out until it’s just Burnie, Geoff and Michael.  
“I know that sucked but you did great!” Geoff smiles, slaps Michael on the shoulder and saunters away to the AH office.  
Burnie turns to him then, and they’re too alone in this too big room. Burnie looks very serious. Michael feels some kind of inspirational speech coming on.  
“I know Geoff said I’d give you some kind of speech...” this is that speech. “..but this is not that speech.” huh. “I think he’s already got that covered.” Burnie spends an eternity (about a few seconds) with his hands heavy on Michael’s shoulders, giving Michael this _look_.

“You’re stronger than you think you are, Michael. Maybe you’re not proud of yourself right now, but I’m proud of who you are. You’re a good kid.”

Michael knows that Burnie is his sometimes buddy, always boss. But right now he feels more like a Father Figure.

 

(#)

 

Michael spends the day bumping into things and people. Everyone wants to look him in the eye and tell them that they’re _proud_ of him, it takes a lot of _courage_ and _strength_ to come out, he’s so _brave_. He shrugs them off with a mumbled “thanks.” The AH guys don’t really say anything, but Michael thinks they’re making an obvious attempt at acting nonchalant. The worry itches under his skin the whole day. Every time someone talks to him he’s worried they’ll bring up _the thing._ Coming out was meant to be freeing and liberating. By the end of the day, Michael wants to crawl back into the closet.

“How do you deal with it?” He asks Gavin when they’re out at lunch.  
“Wiff wot?” he says around the mouthful of sandwich, spraying crumbs everywhere.  
“With people _knowing_ ,” He whispers, which he knows is stupid. He can’t help it. His eyes dart around the restaurant to see if anyone is looking at them, looking at how close together they’re sitting, how close they lean in to talk to other.  
“Are people giving you crap?” Gavin goes from happily-eating to ready-to-beat-a-bitch-down so fast Michael laughs. “What?” His eyebrows knit together to become one Eyebrow of Displeasure.  
“No, no. Everyone is being so... _nice_.” Gavin goes from suspicious to confused. “Half the office came up to me today to tell me they’re there for me and that I’m so brave or something.” He looks at his own sandwich, which sits sad and uneaten on his plate. “And the other half waved and smiled at me everytime I so much as looked in their direction. It was weird.”  
“I guess it’s better than the alternative.”  
“I just, I don’t know why it makes me feel so uncomfortable.”  
Gavin covers Michael’s hand with his own. His fingers are sticky and greasy but Michael says nothing. When Gavin speaks he talks to Michael like there’s no-one else around.. “Maybe it’s because you’re not comfortable with yourself? Are you...” Gavin waves his hand around “...ok with being gay?”  
Michael hears his mouth snap shut. He’s shut his eyes now too. “I’m ok with it. I’m just, it’s like I’m exposed, but trapped at the same time. It’s weird. But I don’t think I hate myself for it anymore. I’m gay.” Michael says it under his breath. I’m gay, I’m gay, I’m gay. It gets a little easier every time he thinks it. They’re grains of sand slipping slow in an hourglass. “I’m ok.” He smiles, small and private.  
“Then look at me.” He opens his eyes and thinks that Gavin is spending too much time looking worried.  
“Don’t look so worried,”  
“It’s hard not to when you looking like you’re about to have another bloody breakdown.”  
“Oh, _thanks_. I’m sorry if ten plus years of being beaten up and called a disgusting fag hasn’t left with me with as sound a mental fucking state as you.” The chair scrapes loudly, almost falls over, as Michael stands up too fast and all but runs out the fucking door.

He goes back to work and spends the rest of the day tip-toeing around Gavin. Not exactly ignoring him, but not really acknowledging him either. He films a stupid video with Ray, who hadn’t really said anything when Michael came out. Sort of just threw his arm around him and pulled him into the office saying “Dude, you gotta check this out...” and proceeded to kick Michael’s ass in the fucking game. He laughs, easy and light and he feels normal again.

Gavin is leaning against Michael’s car waiting for him. Michael wants to march past him and walk the fuck home, but he’s all out of anger for the day. He stands beside Gavin and leans against the car with him.  
“I’m sorry,” Gavin says eventually “I’m a prick. Sorry.”  
“It’s ok,” he moves to stand in front of Gavin, and rests his forehead on Gavin’s shoulder. “It’s no biggie” Gavin’s brings his arms up, wraps them carefully around Michael. “It _is_ big, though. You’ve been through all this- stuff. I never know what to say.” Gavin’s thumb rubs soothing circles into Michael’s back.  
“You just can’t throw this back in my face, Gavin. It took me too long to figure out the difference between what I am and what they think I am and sometimes I still get confused.” His voice is quiet. “And I need you to not get mad at me for crying about fucking _emotions_ or whatever because I’m already mad enough at myself.”  
“I’m sorry” Gavin says it over and over “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

They’re in the fucking parking lot, in broad daylight and they’re both vaguely aware that other people are walking over to their cars and driving away but that’s all background noise, it’s nothing to them right now. “I’m not really good at this.” Gavin admits. “I’ve never...” He trails off.  
“It’s alright, it’s fine. We’re good.”  
“I wanna hear it, if you wanna talk.”  
“Yeah, I’d like that. Yeah.”  
Gavin pressed kisses to Michael’s cheek. Then they pull apart and get into the car.  
“Not right now though, I’m fucking starving.” Michael says, and starts the engine.  
“Pizza first” Gavin replies “Emotions later.”

 

(#)

 

They order from the place that always throws them free onion rings because of that one time Gavin accidentally ordered like twenty pizzas, and then he and Michael invited the delivery guy in and got him drunk. Letting Gavin phone the order in is always mistake number one. This time he gets the order right, but he looks straight at Michael and says “Can I get _extra sausage_.” Michael keeps a calm enough face while Gavin finishes ordering but when he hangs up he says “Oh no, wait, I’ve got your sausage _right here_ ,” and gestures to his crotch. Michael is instantly bent over double laughing. Through the tears in his eyes Michael can just about make out Gavin thrusting around the living room. _I’m in love with the biggest dork on the planet._ He stills. _I’m in love._

“What wrong?” Gavin stops his pelvic movements.  
“Um, nothing. I’m just trying to ignore how big of a dork you are.”  
Gavin beams back at him, goofy and adorable. It’s a feeling that fills up Michael’s whole chest and blocks his throat and if he opens his mouth its gonna throw up everywhere and Michael doesn’t know if it’s word vomit or if it’s actual puke so he keeps his lips together when he smiles at Gavin. It doesn’t fool him though.  
“You look like you’re gonna get sick”  
Michael is about to reassure Gavin that’s he’s ok, he’s just feeling an emotion, but instead he blurts out “What are we?”  
“Wuh?” Gavin freezes.  
“Um.”  
“Is this like a rhetorical question or is this feelings?”  
“I think it’s feelings” His legs are tired all of a sudden. He sits down. Gavin isn’t far behind, and plonks himself so he’s touching Michael hip-to-knee.  
“I thought we were meant to have pizza first.” Gavin’s smile is small and kind. He pokes Michael out of his haze.  
“I just wanna know what we’re... doing.”  
“What do you wanna do?”  
“I don’t know.” He does though, kind of.  
“I know what I want to do.” Gavin is all up in his personal space now.  
“What?” Michael asks  
“ _You_.” Gavin moves in to kiss him but Michael is way too busy laughing to be kissed right now.

When he calms down Gavin’s got this big smile on his face. “I know I want you and I really like you and I’ve never been in a relationship like this-” “Like, a gay one?” Michael cuts in  
“-no, I’ve had boyfriends before.”  
“Then, what?”  
“This is gonna sound bad, but I’ve never really like, _liked_ anyone I’ve been with. Like, I liked being with them and we had sex and it was fun or whatever but it was never serious. I stayed with them until... until the novelty wore off.” He bites at his lip. “And I would end it, or they would, it didn’t matter. I went into all of those relationships knowing that they’d be over in a couple months.”  
“You just had bad luck with relationships, when was your last one anyway?”  
“Ugh, I ended it about a year ago.”  
“Before or after I was hired?”  
“After.”  
“..oh.”  
“Yeah.”

This time it’s Gavin who leans his head on Michael’s shoulder. “You’re one of my best friends Michael. I don’t think the novelty is gonna wear off.” And this time, his kiss hits its mark. He’s contemplating skimming his fingers under Michael’s shirt when the doorbell rings. “FOOD!” He yells and jumps of the couch, dragging Michael with him. Michael’s shaking his head. “Go hide, Gavin. You’re not answering the door.”  
“But, but why?”  
“Because you’ve got a big hickey on your neck and your hair is all messed up and you’ve so obviously been sucking face.”  
Gavin pouts but obediently hides behind the door when Michael opens it. He tries not to laugh because he knows how ever bad he looks, Michael looks about ten times more dishevelled. _If I were the pizza guy Gavin thinks I’d think that this is definitely a sex pizza._ His thoughts are confirmed when the pizza guy says “Enjoy your _pizza_.” in the most suggestive way possible and Gavin can’t help it, he really can’t, so he calls back a helpful “Oh you bet we will!”  
“Ugh, thanks.” Michael closes the door and turns to glare at Gavin.  
“It’s a make-out pizza” (he doesn’t wanna bring up s-e-x just yet) “You look just as messy as me, mate.”  
“Shut up and eat your fucking pizza.”  
Gavin complies, and doesn’t even make any sausage jokes. The silence gets to be too much for Michael, though and half way through the pizza he asks “So this is like a date.”  
“No, no, no. This is not a _date._ ”  
“Oh.” Michael bites the inside of his cheek and looks down at his shoes. Then Gavin realizes what he said and how Michael took it.  
“No, I mean this would be a horrible first date. We should do something special-” Gavin’s eyes light up. “I know!”  
“What?” Michael is grinning again.  
“Well if I told you it would ruin the surprise.”  
“Jesus christ.”  
“Nope, just Gavin. This is gonna be top.”  
“Just fucking tell me.”  
“Nope, you free Friday evening, after work?” Michael nods. “You’ll find out then.”

 

(#)

 

“Lindsay?”  
He opens the door and she’s standing there, with an easy smile and a six-pack clinking in her hands. “What are you doing here? I’ve got... ugh... a thing?”  
“Shut up, Michael.” She breezes past him into the kitchen “The entire office knows you’ve got a big date tonight, I’m here to help!”

Michael stands there fidgeting a little ways away from her. He doesn’t quite meet her eye. “Really? Why? Don’t you... like, hate me or whatever?”  
“I’m your friend, dummy.” Her hands are on her hips, eyebrows furrowed. “I’ll never stop being your friend.”  
Michael toes the ground. “Thanks” he mumbles.  
“Now c’mon, you’re not wearing that are you?”  
“What’s wrong with this?” Michael picks at the hem of his shirt.  
Lindsay shakes her head and drags him into his room. “We gots work to do”

She pushes him down to sit on his bed and turns to his closet. One hand rests on her hip, the other strokes her chin. “Where are you going?”  
“I dunno, he didn’t tell me. He said I’d have to drive though.”  
“Outdoors, indoors, food, drinks? Give me something to work with here!”  
“I don’t fucking know. It’s Gavin! We’ll probably just go to the fucking office and play xbox.”  
Lindsay laughs, head thrown back. “Oh he would do that. He would fucking do that.” Still laughing she pulls out a shirt and chucks it behind her. (Michael doesn’t manage to catch it, but no one saw so it doesn’t count.) “Go try these on” She orders with a smile that says _do this and don’t fucking complain you little bitch I’m helping you not fuck this up._

What follows is a 20 minute fashion show. Michael sashays out of the bathroom and around the bedroom. Lindsay claps and cheers him on, sipping on her beer.  
“Why can’t I have one?” He pouts.  
“Because you gotta drive, dummy.” She opens another bottle. “Plus like I’d ever share my beer with you. Pfffft.” She laughs, and Michael continues his runway walk with a little bit more sulk in his step.

Lindsay stands up when she’s done her third bottle and declares it’s time for Michael to go pick up Gavin.  
“But what’ll I wear? You didn’t pick one?”  
She shrugs “What you’re wearing is fine,”  
Michael checks himself out in the mirror. “Yeah, this is... wait.”  
Lindsay snickers behind him.  
“This is exactly what I had on when you fucking got here!”  
“Oh, was it?” She’s doing a really shitty job of pretending not to laugh.  
“You asshole.” Michael grins.  
“Good Luck!” She sings as she runs out the door. A hand catches it before it slams shut and opens it again. It’s Gavin, carrying a basket or something.  
“Did you make Lindsay cry?” He looks bemusedly worried.  
“No, she fuckin’ made herself cry- ugh, she was laughing though.”  
“Oh, ok. I suppose that’s good.”

They stand there.

“Do you wanna-” Gavin points at the door.  
“Um.” Michael grabs his keys. “Yeah let’s go”  
Gavin gives him a peck on the cheek..  
“What you got in the basket?” Michael looks at it, ignoring the fact his face is probably blushing.  
“You’ll see.” he says, leaning in again to kiss Michael properly.

 

(#)

 

Gavin directs him, and Michael drives them out of the city. Shitty pop music is playing on the radio, the windows are rolled down and Michael feels good. He’s giddy and smiling like an absolute dork, but it’s ok because Gavin’s got a smile to match. They drive for miles down a long straight road, the shops and houses thinning out until they’re driving through the desert. There’s nothing around them but sky and dirt.

“Pull over here.” Gavin says when the nearest building is a speck on the horizon behind them.  
“Here?” Michael’s looking around as he slows down and stops the car at the side of the road. “But there’s nothing here?”  
“Exactly.”  
Gavin gets out, a knowing smile on his lips. Michael follows. He takes a closer look at where they are. “Is this where-” He turns to Gavin. “Is this where I had my fucking breakdown?” Gavin takes the basket out from the trunk. “Yeah it is” He beams at Michael, who’s got his hands on his hips and looks like he knows he should be annoyed but he’s trying not to laugh.  
“You’re a fucking prick.”  
Gavin shrugs. “Get the blanket, will you?”  
Michael mumbles curses under his breath but he gets the fucking blanket and spreads it out on the ground. Gavin throws some pillows at him when he turns around. Gavin gets him right in the face and resists the urge to yell “MARK NUTT”  
“Wow thanks, asshole.”  
“Anytime, Michael!” Gavin bounces over and sits down, patting the cushion beside him and making ‘come hither’ eyes at Michael.  
He sighs and sits down.  
“Why’d you pick here?”  
Gavin goes quiet and looks down at the basket in his lap. They’re both sitting cross legged, knees and shoulders touching. He can feel Michael staring at him, waiting. Gavin looks up. The sun is just beginning to set. The blue sky bleeding orange and pink.  
“I was thinking about what you said.” He goes quiet again. Michael puts his hand on Gavin’s knee. “When you said you felt exposed, but claustrophobic at the same time. It made me think, and I think I get it.” Finally, he turns to meet Michael’s eyes. “It’s like being in the desert. Everything is open and free in this big, expanse thing-” he flaps his hands around in front of him “-but you’re so small and insignificant, you’re lost, you’re trapped, you’re stuck. It’s so big and open, that you’re trapped here. These big walls of air crushing you on every side.”

Silence settles and stretches between them.

“Yeah.” Michael says eventually, beneath his breath, barely audible. Something in him clicks, and he feels the final mental cogs that power him snap into place. He feels like he can function again.  
Next thing he knows, Gavin’s hands come up to cup his face and his thumbs are brushing tears away. “I understand” He says against Michael’s lips.  
“You understand” Michael smiles in reply. “I think I understand it now too.”  
He kisses Gavin, pushes the basket from his lap, pushes him down into the nest of cushions behind him. Michael kisses Gavin’s lips when he pouts them because he’s spilled the picnic food, kisses his tongue when he sticks it out at him, kisses his teeth when he smiles, kisses his nose (once, and once again for good luck) as he laughs, kisses the crinkle between his eyebrows when they draw together, kisses his cheeks when he asks “What are you doin’, Michael?”, kisses a trail down his neck, pausing to mumble out a “shut up I’m kissin’ you.” He kisses down Gavin’s left arm. Sitting up, he brings Gavin’s hand to his mouth and kisses his palm, then each finger tip. He does the same with Gavin’s right hand, then bends down again to kiss up his arm, back to his neck, back to Gavin’s grinning mouth.

“That was nice” Gavin says into the quiet space between their kiss.  
“mmmyeah it was” And his smile lights up his whole face. The sun casts everything in a pinkish tint. Michael feels little bubbles of happiness under his skin. He feels like they’ll make him float, and he’ll bring Gavin with him and they’ll float across the desert as if the sky was a river and they’ll drift forever hand in hand.  
He shakes his head. He’s getting fucking sappy. He grins, pulls Gavin to sit up with him to they can assess the damage done to the food.  
“Except you’ve gone and bloody ruined my picnic.” Gavin laughs.  
“Shut up.” Michael smiles back.

 

(#)

 

By the time they get back to Michael’s apartment the sky is inky blue, sunlight replaced with the cloudy yellowed light of the street lamps.  
Michael pauses at the doorway, key in hand. “So, do you ugh, wanna come in.”  
Gavin’s face goes seriously still for a moment, he looks Michael in the eyes and and leans in close to whisper “It’s not even the third date yet”  
Michael wants to punch him. In a friendly, loving way of course. He opens the door and pushes Gavin inside instead.  
“You want a drink or something?” Michael asks. A feeling of awkwardness and _well, what now_ fills in the too-big distance between them.  
“Nah, I’m good.”  
“Ok.”  
They take turns looking at the floor, the walls, their own hands.  
“Do you.. Should I go?”  
“No, no no!” Michael rushes forward, grabs his arm.  
“Alright. Calm down I’ll stay for a bit.” his voice is soft. They’re close, Gavin moves Michael’s hand from where it grips his arm to his waist. “That’s better”  
Michael hums in reply. And then Gavin is kissing him.

Now, Michael has spent the last couple days kissing Gavin, and being kissed by Gavin, but there’s just something behind this kiss that has Michael almost melting against Gavin. He grips Gavin’s hips for dear life. Gavin’s hands cup his face, drawing him in again whenever Michael breaks away to breathe.

Then he feels Gavin’s hands move down to his shoulders, and gently push him. “Walk” Gavin mumbles into Michael’s mouth. Michael walks backwards until the back of his knees hit the couch. “Sit.” Michael sits. And finds himself with a lapful of Gavin Free Michael doesn’t mean for his hips to grind up when Gavin presses down, they just do.  
“Ooh, someone’s eager.” Gavin mouths at Michael’s neck. “I’ve never been very good at giving hickies” Gavin admits.  
“Me neither,” Michael shrugs, he can’t remember sneaking his hands under Gavin’s shirt but he skims them happily up and down his back.  
“You just need more practice” Gavin says. Michael’s hands still. “I- sorry, I don’t mean that in a bad way.” he tries to meet Michael’s eye, but he ducks his head down. “Sorry, Michael.”  
“It’s ok,” his head is still down. “I don’t know what I’m doing, ok. Can we skip the teasing the rookie bit.”  
Gavin sits back and scratches his head. “hmmm” he contemplates. Michael is ready to punch him. “I guess just this once.” Gavin grins. “But just because you’re so cute and innocent.” Michael does punch him then, sort of. It’s more of a sideways shove with a fist. It leaves Gavin on his back sprawled the length of the couch and Michael straddled across his hips.  
“What an interesting turn of events.” Michael holds Gavin’s arms above his head. He’s squirming beneath him. And yeah, Michael’s nerves are buzzing under his skin. He’s feeling dizzy and like he might throw up. But in a really, really good way. There is nothing else he wants at this moment.

Michael thought he had figured kissing and sex out, but when he finds himself at the end of his bed, hands on his shirt, he freezes. This is undiscovered land. And yeah, he can see the footsteps of the people who have gone before him, and yeah, he does have a guide, but he’s still terrified he’s gonna get lost.

“Hey, it’s ok.” Gavin takes his hands in his. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”  
Michael swallows thickly. “I wanna.. something.”  
“Something.” Gavin’s nodding along. “Yeah, we can something.”  
Gavin takes a couple steps back so he has room to breathe. He takes off his own shirt slowly, toes off his shoes and socks, unbuckles his belt. He looks up at Michael. Michael’s got the hem of his shirt in a drip so tight his knuckles have gone white and he’s having trouble breathing. Gavin doesn’t think it has much to do with arousal though. “I’m okay.” Michael gulps down air and gets rid of his shirt, shoes and socks in quick but fumbled movements.  
“Let’s fuckin’ do this.” He pulls Gavin’s face in for a kiss. The press of skin is both familiar and completely new to him. He can feel his hands shaking where they rest on Gavin’s cheek. Luckily Gavin either decides to not mention it or doesn’t notice it. He walks them over to the bed, belt buckles clinking.

Gavin takes off his own jeans, but leaves his boxers on. Michael keeps his jeans on.  
“Sit up against the headboard” Gavin directs him. “If you wanna stop, tell me, ok?”  
“Yeah, yeah” Michael waves him off, he’s going for nonchalant but he knows he’s shaking with nerves. Gavin undoes Michael’s jeans and boxers, just enough to get at his dick.

He jerks Michael off with quick flicks of his wrist. He leans forward so their foreheads touch. He’s close enough to keep his lips near Michael’s but not to kiss him. He wants to hear every muffled moan and curse. Gavin smirks against Michael’s mouth, and god fucking damn he wants to punch that smug look right off the bastard’s face. He settles for kissing it off.

When he pulls away he’s embarrassingly out of breath. Gavin’s smirk returns in full force as he lowers his head closer to Michael’s dick.

“What are you-” he’s stupid question is cut short as Gavin slides his mouth around his cock and swirls his tongue around the tip.  
”Ok, ok, fuck” Michael keeps his eyes screwed shut as Gavin sucks him off. He can’t look because if he looks at that stupid british prick bobbing his head up and down his dick he’s gonna come way, way too soon. Instead, he blinks up at the ceiling and tries not to rip the sheet entirely off the bed. Gavin has one hand around the base of Michael’s dick and the other skims along Michael’s hips and side; cool, ticklish touches that would usually be too soft to be anything other than annoying, but in this situation it was something for Michael to focus on. Something that made this moment a _moment_ for him. It would be something he remembered.

He would also remember Gavin climbing up his lap and kissing him, his wet mouth grinning and getting spit all over Michael. It takes him a moment to realise the gibberish that Gavin is spewing his actually his name “Michael, Michael, Michael.” He whispers and groans.  
“What?” Michael asks into Gavin’s neck. He sees him blush a bit.  
“You’re ugh.. clean, yeah?”  
“Huh?”  
“Like, have you had any ugh STDs or STIs or whatever they’re called now.”  
“Ugh,” Michael thinks about being embarrassed but gives up, it’s gotten him nowhere before. “I’ve only had sex like twice and it was with the same person so... I doubt it.” Gavin kisses down his throat, down his chest. “We can pause this and I can pee into a cup though if you wanna test it” Michael continues “Assuming you’re clean, that is.”  
“Nah, I’m good.” his hand is on Michael’s dick again. “We’re- This is a thing yeah? We’re really, like you weren’t just saying stuff earlier.”  
Michael nods. “Yeah, we’re a Thing.” He hopes that the capital letters are conveyed. He’s pretty sure they are though because Gavin beams delightedly below him. “Great, you can come on my face so.”  
Michael has enough time to let out a strange squeaking noise before Gavin replaces the hand on Michael’s dick with a warm and eager mouth. He licks him, tongue flat against the underside of his cock. It’s not long before he’s choking out Gavin’s name, pulling on his hair to warn him. Gavin has that smirk fucking plastered to his face again, his hand jerking Michael _just_ right.  
“Fuck, Gavin. I’m-” Michael throws his head back, throws himself into this toe-curling, warm-buzz feeling. When he looks back at Gavin, who’s still slowly stroking Michael’s dick, that fucking smirk is covered in ropes of cum.  
“I bloody love jizz” Gavin licks at the corner of his mouth.  
“What?”  
“It’s like... a guilty pleasure or whatever. I just, really like it.” Michael has never seen someone talk so calmly with their face covered in semen. He looks on as Gavin wipes it off his face and licks at his fingers. “Like, one half of my brain is going ‘no, don’t eat that, that’s gross’ but the other half is going ‘eat it, eat the jizz.’ ”  
“Do you fucking listen to the shit that comes out of your mouth?” Michael laughs, and sits up to get closer to Gavin.  
“Honestly... all I heard there was ‘comes’”  
“C’mere. I’m gonna shut you up.”

Gavin leans closer obediently. Michael changes his mind, pushing him back. He puts his hands on Gavin’s shoulders and nudges him until he’s on his back, Michael straddling him. Its then Michael realises he’s still got his jeans around his ankles. He kicks them off and onto the floor.  
He’s confident in his nakedness for all of about two seconds. His smile falters a bit when he looks down at Gavin, squirming and giggling beneath him.

Michael knows what to do, in theory. In reality, have someone else’s cock in your hand is a dramatically different experience from jerking your own. His strokes are slow and cautious, and Gavin is chanting Michael’s name in breathy whispers, begging _harder, more, faster, goddamit Michael_. Michael looks down and sees Gavin’s hand wrapping around his own, squeezing tighter, moving it faster. He’s looking down and he knows he should feel embarrassed that he can’t even do this, he can’t even give Gavin a half decent hand job. And he would be embarrassed, but it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the exposed expanse of Gavin’s neck, with his eyes closed and his mouth opening around a moan. He sighs out Michael’s name once again and then suddenly there’s cum all over their hands and Gavin’s chest. _Jizz is fucking gross_ Michael thinks, and then _but Gavin looks good covered in it._ Gavin smiled lazily up at him. He runs his finger through the cum on his chest and holds it up to Michael. “Want a taste?” Michael rolls away from him, and manages to roll right off the bed and land his bare ass on the cold as fuck floor.

He feels that embarrassment now. That uncomfortable sinking feeling in his gut, in his bones. Gavin’s head pokes over the side of the bed. “You alright, Michael?” he giggles.  
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” He stands up. Gavin moves over to give him room on the bed, but Michael turns around instead. He puts on clean boxers, a clean t-shirt, clean jeans. Gavin watches him silently. He cleans himself the tissues Michael hands him, but he makes no move to get dressed himself.  
Looking at Gavin, Michael feels more self-conscious dressed than he did when he was naked. He studies the floor for a minute. Another minute. Gavin doesn’t move or speak, he just lies sprawled out. Michael shoves his jeans back down, but keeps his boxers on. He’s waiting for Gavin to say something, to ask him if he’s ok, to tell him to come back to bed, anything. Just as he feels panic bubbling up in him, Gavin snores. Michael is flooded with this strange relief. He fucking fell _asleep_ and he’s really just relieved that his brief moment of panic went relatively unseen and private. He breaths in. Breaths out.

He climbs into bed beside Gavin. That wakes the sleeping bastard enough to place his head on Michael’s chest and curl around him. He mumbles out something that sounds like _you’re perfect stop worrying._ Michael buries his smile in Gavin’s hair. He falls asleep to the quiet sound of Gavin’s breath.

 

(#)

 

“You gotta call her,” Gavin is sitting cross-legged on the bed beside Michael, who’s got his legs thrown out in front of him. They’re dressed, sort of, in boxers and blankets.  
“Don’t make me do this.” He’s too aware of the hunk of phone in his hands.  
“You said the other day ‘Gavin, make me call my mom on Monday’ so that’s what I’m doing.”  
Michael makes some pathetic whiny noises.  
“I know you don’t wanna do it, but at the same time I know you do. I know you can.” He takes the phone from Michael, presses call and holds the phone up to Michael’s ear.

“Hello, Michael?”  
“Hi, Mom.” he takes the phone from Gavin, keeping it pressed against his face. “How are you?”  
“I’m just fine, Michael. What do you want?”  
“Huh?”  
“You never call me this early unless you want something.” Her tone is fond though, familiar.  
“I just wanted to talk.” his voice is more childish than he wants it to be.  
“About what, sweetie?” She’s gone into nicknames now, Michael knows he’s not gonna get out of this without crying.  
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I just-” he chokes. Gavin is right there though, literally holding his hand.  
“You can tell me anything, sweetie.”  
He looks up at Gavin when he says it, trying to figure out the look on his face. “I’m gay.”  
There’s this one second of silence and Michael can feel his heart in his ears and pins and needles in his feet.  
“Michael.” His mother’s voice is firm.  
“Yeah?” His own voice squeaks.  
“Thank you for telling me. I love you.”  
“You’re not, you’re ok with it?”  
“Michael. It’s not that I’ve known but I’ve suspected. You never told me why those kids at school picked on you but your teachers called and told me. You’ve been so much happier since you moved out to Austin though, Michael. And it makes me so happy you’ve found a place where you can be yourself I’m so proud of you.” They’re both crying a little at this point. Gavin’s grip on Michael’s knee is solid, it keeps him grounded.  
He stutters out a “Thanks, Mom” and she babbles on again about how _proud_ she is and how Michael really should visit soon when is he coming back home so she can cook him real food and drink real beer with him. Then she asks if he’s seeing any nice boys and Michael goes bright fucking red. Gavin’s nodding and pointing at himself like _tell her about me! tell her! tell her!_  
“Yeah, um. You remember Gavin?” Gavin gives him a look that says _how could anyone forget me_ “We’re kind of together.” There’s another couple of minutes of his mom going on and on about how cute Gavin is and how he should come visit next time too, he really needs to see more of America. But eventually the conversation ends, goodbyes are said and Michael hangs up the phone.  
“I told you that wasn’t gonna be so bad.”  
“Yeah, wow Gavin you were actually right about something. We need to call the press this is an historical occasion.”  
“Oh, piss off.” Gavin tackles him, and they fall back onto the bed laughing.

They have the day off, so after breakfast it’s straight back to bed. Michael feels more in control of himself every time they do this. He feels so in control right now, actually, he leans forward and whispers in Gavin’s ear “ _I want you to fuck me._ ” Michael isn’t sure what kind of reaction he’s expecting. Enthusiasm, or encouragement, maybe. Instead, all the colour seems to drain from Gavin’s face and he freezes with his shirt in his hands. “Did I- I thought-” Michael stammers around his words, all his confidence replaced by embarrassment. He wishes he had kept some clothes on. Gavin’s hands come up to cup Michael’s face. “We can start small.” He kisses Michael’s forehead, and then finishes taking off his own clothes. The atmosphere somehow snaps, from supercharged to soft and quiet. “I have, ugh, stuff in the-” Michael keeps on mumbling along as Gavin guides him to lie down on the bed. He’s so calm and sure of himself. It’s so different from the fucking spastic goofball he usually is. But Gavin walks around naked with such confidence, it’s like he was born naked. Which he.. was? Michael decides to stop thinking because he’s getting into Gavin levels of dumb right now.

“Michael, calm down. I’m not gonna just stick it in.” Gavin flops down beside him. “I’m not that bloody stupid.”  
“Coulda fooled me.” Michael’s mumbled comeback is a reflex that goes ignored. Gavin trails touches down Michael’s chest, his sides. He kisses every freckle he can find, from the single dots to the entire constellations that cover all the usually hidden parts of Michael’s body.

“C’mon, Gavin.” Michael’s hands grip at Gavin’s shoulders.  
“Stop whining.” He rests his head on Michael’s thigh.  
“I’m not _whining_ ,”  
“Yeah you are though,” Michael feels Gavin sigh.  
“Are you… are you just staring at my dick?”  
“I might be admiring the view.”  
Michael slumps back, laughing. “Jesus christ. Can we get this show on the road?”  
“The show I’m watching right now is pretty top.”  
“I’ll fucking top you.” It’s just another reflexive comeback, but Gavin is suddenly right in front of Michael’s face and flashing way too many teeth.  
“I forgot gay stuff goes both ways.” Gavin says as he leans back, his knees either side of Michael’s hips. A few minutes pass where Michael just blinks up at Gavin, whose fingering himself open. Michael knows what he’s doing, he’s fully aware of what’s happening, but he feels oddly detached from it all.  
“Do you, ugh need some help?” Gavin’s got his eyes screwed shut and he keeps wincing.  
Gavin shakes his head, “Nah, umm, I just remembered how weird this feels.” He cracks open one eye. “Stop worrying, I’m nearly ready.”  
“You sure?”  
“ugh, here.” A condom lands with a smack on Michael’s chest. He rolls it on, but the realization that he’s gonna fuck Gavin doesn’t really sink in until Gavin is actually, yeknow, _sinking down on his dick_. Michael doesn’t even try to hold back the curses. He’s so distracted by how tight Gavin is that he doesn’t notice how noisy Gavin is being.  
“Hup, ah. Ung, hap. Aaap. Bugh.” He stops moving when he’s got half of Michael’s dick in him. “Gavin?”  
“Ummm, may have made a slight miscalculation.”  
“Are you ok?” Michael’s hands tighten where they grip Gavin’s hips.  
“Yeah, I just.” He moves off of Michael to lie on his stomach. “It’s better if you do it.”  
Michael bites his lip against the loss, but does as Gavin instructs and moves behind him.  
“Do it slow, I’ll tell you when to get faster or whatever.” Gavin rests his forehead on the pillow and moves his hips up.  
“You’re basically presenting me your ass right now.”  
“Happy birthday, now shut up and fuck me.”  
Michael gasps, loud and exaggerated. “Did Gavin Free just say the F word?!”  
“ _Michael._ ”  
“Alright, alright.” He brushes his fingers along Gavin’s back and sides for a few moments, remembers how it felt when it was Gavin tickling him. Then Gavin makes his impatience known by kicking back at Michael.  
“I’m doing it, ok. I’m fucking fucking you now, alright. Patience, Gavin.” He gets the bottle that Gavin dropped on the bed. He presses lubed up fingers into Gavin. “ _Fuck_. This is so different from doing it on yourself.” He says into the small of Gavin’s back.  
“You’ve fingered yourself?”  
“Ugh, yeknow. A couple times in the shower or whatever. Nothing big.”  
Gavin hums happily. “That’s a nice image.”  
“Yeah I know I’m a fucking wet dream.” He takes his fingers out, returning his grip on Gavin’s hip. “You ok?”  
“Yeah.” Michael presses in. It’s slow going. He kisses Gavin’s back every time he hears a gasp or hitched breath, or whenever he hears what can only be describes as ‘Gavin noises’  
Michael starts to move slowly, Gavin kicking at him to go faster. “Hurry up, Michael.”  
“Gavin.” Michael stops moving entirely. “Do you realize you make the same noises you’re making when you fuck up in a game.”  
“No I don’t.” Michael can hear the pout in his voice. He thrusts his hips a little.  
Gavin makes a sound that can only be described as a whine. “ok maybe I do.”  
Michael laughs and it’s low and dirty and makes Gavin push back onto him. Michael gets the message and starts to move in earnest.

Gavin’s back is slick with sweat, Michael can taste it. He wants to stop and ask Gavin if he’s ok because he’s gone awfully quiet. When he slows down though Gavin just yells at him to _not stop or so help me god._ Michael giggles and it feels so weird to laugh in the middle of sex he giggles again. And the happiness bubbles up inside him and his toes curl and suddenly he’s so close to coming.  
“Gavin, I’m so close, man.”  
“C’mon, Michael. Fucking cum, you feel so fucking good in my ass I want your cum.”  
There’s nothing like surprise dirty talk to send you right over the edge. He presses his face into the back of Gavin’s neck as Gavin continues his appraisal of Michael’s cock. “Fuck, Gavin. You. I. Fuck.” Michael can’t quite catch his breath yet, but he manages to dispose of the condom with relatively little mess. Gavin pulls him back onto the bed and they fall into a tangle of limbs and kisses, until Michael licks at Gavin’s dick to get him hard again. Immediately Gavin’s hand grabs at Michael’s hair, demanding and impatient. So Michael wastes no time in taking him in his mouth and sucking. He reaches his hand around to Gavin’s ass. There’s still enough lube to swim in, so Michael carefully traces around Gavin’s hole before fucking him on two fingers. That gets a yelp from Gavin, but he also moans out Michael’s name loud enough to be heard by the entire continental united states.

He gives the signal that he’s close, two taps to the shoulder, and Michael pulls off. He finishes him with his hand, eyes locked with Gavin as he comes all over Michael’s hand, catching a little on his cheek and chin. “Sorry, Michael.”  
Michael just grins and gets a cloth to wipe it off. He doesn’t mind jizz, but he doesn’t have the eternal burning desire for it that Gavin has. “It’s ok.” He manages to clean them up a bit before Gavin crushes him in his customary post-coital cuddle, which is really more like an attempt to smother Michael in limbs and sweat. “We’re so gross, we need to shower.” Michael says to the bit of Gavin’s skin thats pressed into his face. He thinks it’s Gavin’s arm, but it could be his back or his sides. (It’s not hairy enough to be his chest or legs).  
“Nap first” Gavin is already half asleep and drooling on Michael.  
“Nap first.” Michael echoes and is, for the moment, content.

 

(#)

 

It’s a week or so later when he finds the business card on the car’s dashboard. He knows that is definitely not where he put it. He assumes Gavin or Lindsay had found it and left it in a conveniently obvious location. He sighs and dials Erin’s cell number, scribbled on the back in thick black marker. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he look out to see if anyone is around. He’s probably gonna be a little late for work but he’ll figure out an excuse on the way.

“Heeeeello?” She draws it out, Michael is thankful for the second it gives him to breathe.  
“Hi, is this Erin?”  
“Yep. Michael Jones?”  
“Ugh, yeah.”  
“Hello! I’m so glad you called!” it’s too early for anyone to be that instantly chipper. “I was worried you weren’t gonna call!”  
“Yeah, well I said I would.” He mumbles into the phone.  
“Are you free Wednesday evening?”  
“Um, yeah sure?”  
“Great! Ok, can you come a little early, like five ish? You can help set up and meet the other coordinators. It’s in the rec center downtown. You know the one?”  
“I know it.”  
“Ah, I’m so excited! You’re gonna love it, I know you will. I hope you will. It’s ok if you don’t. But the other coordinators are so nice and friendly”  
Michael nods along with her excited chatter. Adding “hmm”s and “yeah”s where  
necessary. It’s nice that she’s so enthusiastic about it, it lessens his worry a little.

“Erin,” He has interrupt her eventually. “I have to go to work, but I can call you later?”  
“Oh, sorry! Yeah, I’ve got some stuff I wanna e-mail you. E-mails would probably work better for me actually. I can get a little rambly on the phone.”  
“Really? I didn’t notice.” He starts up the engine with a smile.  
“Just text me your email, smartass.”

 

(#)

 

“And you’re sure you want to do this?” Burnie and Gus are looking at him all concerned. Michael just moves his head up and down because he knows if he starts talking he’s gonna say no and run away. Gavin holds his hand from the other side of the couch. There’s no tower of cushions between them this time. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Gavin’s concern would be touching if Michael wasn’t so fucking nervous. The grip he has on Gavin’s hand will probably cause permanent damage. “I can’t back out, Erin paid for fucking sponsorship so she could watch this shit live.”  
“Couldn’t you have loaned her your account?”  
“My mom’s using mine to watch it.”  
Then they’re calling out from behind the cameras “We’re on in 5... 4...” Michael lets go and folds his hands around the beer in his lap.

Burnie, Gus and Gavin fly through topics for the first few minutes. Michael concentrates mostly on his once-cold but now room-temp beer. Too soon though the atmosphere changes and Burnie gives him the look. “It’s not often we have you, Michael, on the podcast.” His smile his open and friendly, in contrast to the small and scared little quirk of Michael’s mouth.  
“Yeah, today’s a little different” He says.  
“You have something you wanted to share?”  
“Yeah, um.” He looks at Gavin. Then down at the seat of space between them. “There’s no point in beating around the bush. I’m gay and Gavin and I are together. There you go, internet.”  
“I’m really happy for you guys.” Burnie looks so proud of him. Michael downs the rest of his beer.  
“It’s not really a big thing.” Michael opens another beer. “We’re gonna get a lot of shit for it, but I’m used to that.”  
“You were bullied as a kid, weren’t you?”  
“Mmmyeah, I got it pretty rough.” Michael feels like his bones are crawling out of his skin.  
“He doesn’t really like to talk about it.” Gavin cuts in. “This is really personal to both of us. We decided to come out mostly because we didn’t want to hide anything, but we do ask for privacy or whatever.”  
“It takes a lot of courage to come out, I’m proud of you Michael.” Burnie still has that dumb grin on his face.  
“What about me?”  
“Oh yeah, you too Gavin.”  
“It’s alright, I know I’m just second place. Michael is everyone’s favorite.” Gavin’s grin is competing with Burnie’s. “But he’s _my_ boy. Aren’t you, Michael” and he turns his stupid face to Michael’s and Michael _does not_ want to be here. He does not want people to know about him. Everything in him is telling him to run the fuck away.

But he doesn’t.

He looks at Gavin.

“Yeah, I’m your boy.”

And then Gavin is leaning over and kissing Michael, just once, on the cheek. When he moves back to his own seat he’s not as far as he was at the start.

“Ok, now let me read this message from on sponsors...” Gus starts to read it out while Burnie messes with perspective and a fake moustache. Out of frame, Gavin looks at Michael and silently mouths _Alright?_ Michael nods. Gavin scoots even closer, so that their hands almost touch where they rest on the pillow between them.

They go out for drinks after so Michael isn’t home until well after 2 am. He falls straight into bed. Alone, because Gavin passed out and had to be carried home by Geoff. He laughs to himself as he falls asleep. It was a good night...

 

...and not such a good morning. Michael shuffles into the kitchen and drinks his own body weight in water. He passes by his laptop and turns it on on his way to the bathroom. He falls into the chair eventually, teeth brushed but hair still sticking up. Michael checks his texts (drunken gibberish from Gavin), checks his emails (information and form stuff from Erin), checks his twitter (...oh). He doesn’t know how long he sits there scrolling. Pages and pages of stuff he hadn’t really heard since he moved to Austin. Michael is vaguely aware of his phone going off in the corner. He doesn’t answer though. It stops and starts. And stops again.

Then his door starts banging at him. “Michael!” Lindsay’s voice shouts through the wood. “You better still be sleeping,”

He gets up slowly, walks over to the door with quiet, tiny steps. Lindsay’s face goes from ‘Cheerful Smile’ to ‘Who Do I Gotta Punch?’ the second Michael opens the door.  
“Did you go on the internet?”  
Michael nods and he’s instantly wrapped up in this smothering hug. “I _knew_ this would happen I don’t know why I’m so surprised. How could it not?” He smushes his face into her shoulder. Her hands pat his back. _I’m like a baby being burped_ he thinks _I really hope I don’t vomit on her._

“People on the internet are fucking assholes, don’t mind them. It’s not just you those shits are shitting on either. You should see the stuff they’re sending me...”  
“What?!” Michael moves back to look at her. “What are they sending _you_?”  
“Just, stuff, Michael. I don’t care. Caleb and Barbara are helping block all that shit. That’s sort of why I’m over here, too. I had just hoped you were still asleep when you wouldn’t answer my calls.”  
“I’m sorry,” He looks at the big wet patch on Lindsay’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” _I have so much to apologize for_. “How, why are you even here?” It comes out angrier than he meant it to.  
“What? Do you not want me here?”  
“No, I’m sorry.” _I’m sorry_ “I mean, why don’t you hate me? I dumped you because I’m _gay_ and the next day you’re just like well whatever.”  
“I’m trying to be here for you, you need friends right now.”  
“But what about _you_.”  
Lindsay sighs. “Sit down, Michael.” She sounds sad. She sits beside him on the couch, and holds his hands loosely in hers. “When you broke up with me, it wasn’t a surprise. We just, didn’t work together, for obvious reasons.” Michael huffs out a sound that might be a laugh. “But when we broke up, all I lost was awkward dinners and shitty sex and in exchange I got a friend, a best friend, who can trust me and who I can trust.” She makes him meet her eyes. “You are my best friend, Michael. But I do have _other_ friends that are there to take care of me while I’m taking care of you. Ok?”  
“Ok. Thanks, Lindsay.” She ruffles his hair and jumps up. “Alrighty, time to do some damage control. Give me your twitter password.”  
“What? Why?” He stands up more slowly.  
“‘Cause I’m not letting you mope around all day reading the abuse stupid people leave on the internet. Caleb and I are on homophobe patrol, just for the next week or so. Until the dumb bullies get bored and go back to picking the lint from their bellybuttons.”

 

The community was going crazy, divided between people who were delighted at the news and those who felt like going through every video on the LtMillika channel and leaving a homophobic comment was a good way to spend their day. The first thing Michael does a week later when the official video of the podcast goes up on the site is check the comments. His hands are itching and he made sure Gavin and Lindsay and everyone would leave him alone for the evening. His mom did call him a few days ago saying again how proud she was of him. It made him smile, yeah, but it made him want to curl up into a ball and cry. Which he totally _didn’t_ do. Nuh-ugh. No way.

 

 

> _Comments have been disabled for this video._
> 
>   
> 

Huh. That stumps him for a minute. He puts it down to Caleb and Lindsay, though. They changed his password on twitter and wouldn’t let him onto it all week. He made another, secret twitter account, but deleted it before he could search for anything. Everyone kept him busy all week with drinking and dinners and floating the river and Gavin kept him pretty busy in his own special way. (Sex. They were having a lot of sex.) He’s replying to an e-mail Erin sent when his phone goes off.  
“Hey?”  
“Michael! Are you on your laptop?” Caleb is so excited, Michael can hear him smiling.  
“Yeah, yeah. What is it?” Michael would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t beating a little faster than normal. It was hard not to get excited when Caleb was so obviously buzzing with it on the other end of the phone.  
“There’s this really cool tumblr - yeah I know you’re making a face but no, go see it. I just facebooked you the link. Go check it out.”

So he does.

“Michael?” Caleb keeps talking. “Are you still there, Michael? Are you ok? Did you look at it?”  
“Yeah I’m looking at it man, what the fuck?”  
“Did you read the thing Lindsay put on her blog the day of the podcast?”  
“Ugh, no.”  
“What? Anyway it was just about your breakup and how you’re both still friends, blah blah blah. But the end of it was something like... I have it here I’ll read it out.” Caleb clears his throat “Michael is one of the nicest, kindest and most amazing people I know. Unfortunately he’s also dumb as shit and I know he’s gonna spend way too long sitting and reading ignorant and unpleasant comments about himself and Gavin. And it really breaks my heart because he has gone through enough of that shit. He doesn’t like to talk about it because it was, and still is, very personal to him. But I am asking you, the community, as friends of Michael, to show your support for him. He really needs friends right now.’ And a bunch of people left really nice comments. And then they made this blog and it’s basically, people have been submitting their own coming out stories and advice and generally really nice things. I’m about to make a post thanking them. I just wanted to show you first, to see if you wanted me to say anything in the post.”  
“Can I have my twitter back? I’ll thank them myself.”  
“Sure, I’ll change it back to your original password now.”  
“Thanks, Caleb.”  
“No problemo, man. It’s what I’m here for. Will I still make the post?”  
“Yeah, go ahead. Just say I’m grateful or whatever. I’ll read them through and then say something more put together.”  
“Cool, ok. See ya tomorrow.”  
“See ya.”  
Michael hangs up and puts his phone down carefully. He starts to read.

 

_“I’ve been struggling with my sexuality for my whole life. Seeing Michael and Gavin coming out on the podcast has given me the courage to figure out who I am.”_

 

His hand his over his mouth.

_“I came out to my parents yesterday. They’re not really ok with it yet, but I have hope that they will be. You give me that hope, Michael.”  
_

_“I am still beaten up and taunted for being who I am. Thank you, Michael. You give me so much hope that one day I’ll be proud of who I am.”_

 

Post after post of gratitude and appreciation. It occurs to him he needs to breathe and he takes in a shuddery breath.

_“I have been feeling so alone lately, I was afraid I was going to do something bad, like hurt myself. When I heard about the podcast I thought it was a joke, but actually watching it made me cry so much. I know Michael doesn’t even know I exist but he feels like my best friend.”_

 

He’s not even crying, which is surprising. He spends an hour reading and re-reading all the stories and messages. Michael has no idea what to do, but he has the vague feeling he should do _something_. So he does what he knows how to do. He makes a video. And he knows that it’s gonna get hate, he knows there are so many ignorant dipshits out there. But he also knows that there are people out there that aren’t the scum of the earth. In fact, they’re actually fucking amazing. It doesn’t feel like much to him, but it’s all he can really do right now. So he takes a quick video thanking everyone from the bottom of his heart. Telling them that their courage gives him courage and he’s proud of each and every single one of them. He doesn’t say it on the video, but later, alone and half-asleep he thinks _I’m proud of myself, too._

 

(#)

 

It’s nice to have home-cooked food cooked in your own home for a change. Michael thinks. Even if he’s not the one doing any of the actual cooking. Gavin is the one in the chef hat and apron, but everyone knows it’s Lindsay who called Geoff asking how the fuck to cook steak. He ends up Skype calling them and ordering them around the kitchen. Michael walks in with Barbara and Ray, and Gavin is holding the laptop above the frying pan while Lindsay carefully flips the steaks over. “Yeah they look about done, check the sauce now.” Michael shakes his head but leaves them at it.

 

It’s not until the food is eaten and everyone is contemplating desert that the conversation turns to something Michael wanted to avoid.  
“So you wanna tell us about that thing tomorrow?” Barbara asks. He knew it’d be brought up eventually. “It’s nothing big,” Michael shrugs.  
“It’s pretty fucking important, Michael.” Lindsay says, she’s holding her wineglass but she looks like she should have her hands on her hips, staring him down.  
“It’s just this meeting thing. I’m just, I don’t even know, saying some stuff at an LGBT youth group thing.”  
“Aw, that’s cool.” Barbra smiles.  
Ray picks up her train of thought.“Yeah man, it sounds important. Gavin was telling me about it-” Michael shoots Gavin a _look_ “-and I’m so pumped to hear it man, I can’t wait-”  
“Wait, what” Michael’s heart picks up the pace  
“Oh yeah” Gavin adds “I invited Ray. Barb, you can come too. Lindsay and I are going. I was talking to Erin and she said-”  
“When were you talking to Erin?”  
“Oh she called me.”  
“She _called_ you?”  
“Um, yeah. She said you probably wouldn’t tell anyone about your talk so she rang to make sure I knew and invited people.”  
Michael stares at his plate.  
“Are you ok?” Lindsay hand is on his back.  
“Yeah,” He’s breathing. He’s getting better at not freaking out when that self-doubt starts to close up his throat. “You just freaked me out for a sec, yeah of course you guys can come.” Everyone breathes a subtle sigh of relief. “Just don’t expect any fucking shout outs in my talk, you’re all being disowned the second we get there.”  
“Oh are they under the false impression you’re a cool kid?” Lindsay snorts.  
“Yeah and all you losers showing up is gonna ruin my sweet rep.”

 

(#)

 

They take it easy on the bevs. Everyone is cleared out before 1 am, leaving Michael and Gavin curled up on the couch.  
“Fuck, I’m so tired.” Michael yawns.  
“Does that mean no sex?” Gavin says.  
In way of reply Michael kisses him, grabbing fistfuls of Gavin’s shirt and pushes him in the direction of the bedroom.

This time it’s Michael on his back, legs pressed to his chest and Gavin over him. “Good?” Gavin asks. Michael heaves in breaths between mumbles ‘ _yes_ ’s. He isn’t in a position where he can fuck himself back on Gavin’s dick, so he waits until Gavin is done worrying if he’s hurt Michael and then says. “Gavin Free you better fuck me into the mattress so hard that it breaks or I swear to god I’m gonna fucking murder you.”  
“You’re so good at the sweet talk.”  
“That’s why you love me.” Michael says, but Gavin must not have heard it because he just drops his head and quickens the pace. There’s not much need for words with more than four letters after that.

Later, messy and half-asleep, Gavin says “No it’s not.” His face is pressed into Michael’s curls and an arm curled around him.  
“Whu?” Michael blinks awake. “Not what?”  
“That’s not why I love you.”  
“Are you being sappy right now?”  
“Michael, I’m trying to have a moment.”  
“Pfft, ok.” Michael shuffles round so that he’s facing Gavin, they look at each other in the dim light of the street lamp shining through window. “Have your fucking moment, then.” Gavin smiles, and leans in the tiny distance to press their lips together. Michael has the fleeting worry that Gavin will hear how fucking fast his heart is beating, but he feels nothing but joy when Gavin breaks away and smiles at him. “The face you make when you’re angry, and it’s like all screwed up and you’re all red and you’re gonna yell at something...”  
“What does-”  
“...when you’re asleep and your face is all relaxed and you’re making those little hiccup-y yawn noises. When you smile, and your eyes light up, when you bunce me in a game, when you punch me on the arm then kiss me on the cheek, when you’re yelling and when you’re quiet. Everything you do.” Gavin shrugs. “That’s why I love you.”  
“That made like no fucking sense.” Michael grins “But yeah, dickfucker, I love you too.”

 

(#)

 

He’s standing at the side with the other coordinators. Erin is up at the podium with a smart blazer and her ponytail swishing behind her. She’s saying how thankful she is to everyone, how excited she is to meet all the new kids. Michael isn’t even sure why they’re having a big meeting, but he guesses from the line up that it’s some kind of introductory ceremony _thing_. It’s all the groups that meet within the organization, which is apparently really big. Michael doesn’t realize how big it actually is until he’s at the podium himself.

He looks out at the faces of the kids. Teens mostly. Some are bored, slouched. Other are looking up at Michael, staring at him, waiting to hear what he has to say. He recognises some of the kids from the group. A couple kids are even dabbing at red eyes with tissues. At the back of the crowd stands Gavin and Lindsay smiling and waving. Beside them is Ray, Barbara, Geoff and Burnie. They’re just little blobs at the back of the big hall but Michael can see them waving, then Burnie giving out to them for waving. _“Stop distracting him, he’s nervous enough already!”_

 

“Hi everybody. I’m Michael Jones. Some of you might know me from The Internet-” his air-quotes gets a half-chuckle from them “-I work at the Rooster teeth offices in the Achievement Hunter bit and I basically play videogames for a living. I know, yeah, I’m living the dream.” He smiles, looks down at the little cards in his hands. It’s transcribed from his own messy scrawl into Lindsay’s neat print. “I was in the closet until pretty recently actually, but I’ve been gradually coming out as gay to my family, friends and then everybody else. I’ve been training with the coordinators here and soon I’m going to be working with groups more and more. You’ll be sick of my face soon enough.  
“Our leader, Erin-” He gestures over to where she’s standing “-who is brilliant and wonderful, asked me to come up here and share my experiences with you all. ‘Cause I’ve experienced some _stuff_. Apparently this makes me wise enough to give you all advice.” He shrugs “So here goes nothing, I guess.” He settles this cards in his hands. He’s trying to remember the advice Burnie gave him on public speaking, but it seems to have all can think is _breathe in, breathe out_. He doesn’t even remember who said it, just focuses on his breathing. _Breathe in,_

“I had a tough time growing up. Even though I denied it, people still singled me out for being gay. I don’t need to go into details about what happened, I know that you know what it’s like. And I’m sorry for that.” “I’ve spent a lot of my life feeling alone. You grow used to that feeling of self-hatred that makes your skin crawl, you learn to get ready in the morning without looking in the mirror. Accepting yourself is not like a moment of truth where one minute you hate your self and the next you’re fine. It’s a series of moments, minutes, days, where sometimes you know you’re good and deserve to be alive and then other times you wonder why you can’t just be normal like everybody else.”

__Breathe out._ _

“There are people out there who love you. Maybe you just haven’t met them yet. You might meet them tomorrow, or next year, but you will meet them. You’ll find them, or they’ll find you, or you’ll realise they were there all along you were just too busy hating yourself to notice. There are people who love you, and they’ll love you _for you._ They’ll call you brave when you feel like the biggest coward and they’ll be proud of you when you can’t even _imagine_ Breathe in, breathe out. “Here’s the thing. The world is a fucked up place.” He can feel Erin wincing behind him. He’s gone totally off script not, but there’s some shit he needs to say. He’ll apologize to her later. “It’s all fine and dandy for me to stand up here and tell you you’re not alone, but that won’t mean jack shit to you if you believe in your bones that you’re alone. I know that, I get that, I spent the past 10 years without a doubt in my mind as to how completely and utterly alone I was.

Even when you’re surrounded by people who love you, they’re not gonna be there 24/7 and sometimes they leave for good. The only person that’s gonna be with you for your whole entire life is yourself. So you gotta learn to put up and deal with your own shit on your own. If you can’t accept yourself and love yourself for who you are, you’re never gonna believe it when other people tell you that they love you, that they accept you. They _do_ and you need to hear them say it. But most importantly you gotta hear yourself say it. You gotta get your mirror, that mirror you’ve been avoiding, you gotta look at your reflection. Start small. Just look at yourself and think ‘hey, you’re not that bad!’ And bit by bit step it up. ‘hey, you’re actually a decent person! It’s not your fault you were born into a crappy world! You deserve to be loved, by others and by yourself.’

You have to learn to live with what you are, whatever you are. You have to carve out a space for yourself in this world where you can feel safe and loved and you gotta make that place inside yourself too. But you’re gonna do it. You’re gonna get over all this homophobic and transphobic shit that’s been piled on you your whole life. You’re gonna realize it’s bullshit and you’re gonna cut all those ignorant and toxic people from your life. You’re gonna surround yourself with friends, _real_ friends and you’re gonna learn that everything you thought was wrong with you is already so perfect and you’re gonna accept yourself and your heart is gonna be so open to all the love in the world. The world is still filled with ignorant dickwads though, but you’re gonna fight them. I’m gonna fight them. We’re gonna fight all this bullshit together. It’ll take time, yeah, it’ll probably take our whole lives. I’m still learning to be totally happy with who I am, and who I love. But even then, when I’m feeling lonely, I know I’m not alone. So even when you’ve got nothing but these dark feelings and dark thoughts know that, even when you’re filled with this consuming loneliness, you’re not alone. I’m here. I’m standing right here. We are not alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent a good part of the summer getting some nasty thoughts out of my system by projecting them onto poor Michael. Writing this helped me a lot, I think. I just hope it can help other people that need it too. 
> 
> Thank you.


End file.
